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luwiimrauii 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022229296 


~> 


Four  Years  Under  Marse  Robert 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/fouryearsundermaOOsti 


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FOUR  YEARS  UNDER 
MARSE  ROBERT 


BY 

ROBERT  STILES 

Major  of  Artillery  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 


new  york  &  washington 

The  Neale  Publishing  Company 
m  c  m  III 


Copyright,  1903,  by  Robert  Stiles 


TO 

THAT  GREAT  CAPTAIN 

TO    WHOM    THE    WORLD    TO-DAY    ATTRIBUTES    MORE    OF    THE 

LOFTIEST   VIRTUES   AND    POWERS   OF   HUMANITY,    WITH 

LESS    OF    ITS    GROSSNESS    AND    LITTLENESS,    THAN 

TO  ANY  OTHER  MILITARY  HERO  IN  HISTORY ;  AND 

TO 

MY  COMRADES 

LIVING  AND  DEAD WHO  COMPOSED 

THAT  IMMORTAL  ARMY 

WHICH    FOUGHT   OUT    FOR    HIM 

HIS  MAGNIFICENT  CAMPAIGNS 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I.      Explanation  of  the  Title — Scheme  of  the  Work. 


CHAPTER   II-------      Introductory    Sketches. 

Ante-war  History  of  the  Author — The  Fight  for  the  "Speak- 
ership" in  i860 — Vallandigham,  of  Ohio — Richmond  After  the 
John  Brown  Raid — Whig  and  Democratic  Conventions  of  Vir- 
ginia in   i860 25 


CHAPTER  III.      -----      From  New  York  to  Richmond. 

Quieting  Down  to  the  Study  of  Law  in  New  York — Progress 
of  the  Revolution — Virginia's  Attempted  Mediation — Firing  on 
Sumter — Back  to  New  Haven — A  Remarkable  Man  and  a 
Strange,  Sad  Story — Off  for  Dixie — In  Richmond  Again 33 


CHAPTER  IV.     ------     From  Civil  to  Military  Life. 

Off  for  Manassas — First  Glimpse  of  An  Army  and  a  Battle- 
field— The  Richmond  Howitzers — Intellectual  Atmosphere  of 
the  Camp — Essential  Spirit  of  the  Southern  Volunteer 44 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V.    Field  Artillery  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

Inadequacy  of  General  Equipment — Formation  During  First 
Two  Years — High  Character  of  Men  Accounted  For — An  Ex- 
traordinary Story 52 

CHAPTER  VI.      -----      From    Manassas   to   Leesburg. 

March  and  Counter-march — Longstreet  and  Prince  Napoleon 
— Leesburg — The  Battle — The  Mississippians — D.  H.  Hill — 
Fort  Johnston 59 

CHAPTER  VII. The  Peninsula  Campaign. 

Reenlistment  and  Reorganization  in  the  Spring  of  '62 — Gen. 
McClellan — The  Peninsula  Lines — The  Texans — The  Battle  of 
Williamsburg— The  Mud 73 

CHAPTER  VIII.      -      Seven  Pines  and  the  Seven  Days'  Battles. 

Joseph  E.  Johnston — The  Change  of  Commanders — Lee's 
Plan  of  the  Seven  Days'  Battles — Rainsford — The  Pursuit — 
Playing  at  Lost  Ball— "Little  Mac's  Lost  the  Thrigger"— 
Early  Dawn  on  a  Battle-field — Lee  and  Jackson. 87 


CHAPTER  IX.    Malvern  Hill  and  the  Effect  of  the  Seven  Days' 

Battles. 

Not  a  Confederate  Victory — The  Federal  Artillery  Fire — De- 
moralization of  Lee's  Army — "McClellan  Will  Be  Gone  by  Day- 
light"— The  Weight  of  Lee's  Sword — Stuart — Pelham — Pegram 
—"Extra  Billy"— To  Battle  in  a  Trotting  Sulky— The  Standard 
of  Courage 101 


CONTENTS  XI 

CHAPTER  X.    -    Second  Manassas — Sharpsburg — Fredericksburg. 

Not  at  Second  Manassas  or  Sharpsburg — A  Glimpse  of  Rich- 
mond in  the  Summer  of  '62 — Col.  Willis,  of  the  Twelfth  Geor- 
gia— Jackson  in  the  Railroad  Cut  at  Manassas — Sharpsburg  the 
Hardest  Fought  of  Lee's  Battles,  Fredericksburg  the  Easiest 
Won — The  Mississippi  Brigade  Entertains  a  Baby — A  Con- 
script's First  Fight — Magnificent  Spectacle  When  Fog  Cur- 
tain Rose — Aurora  Borealis  at  Close  of  the  Drama 118 


CHAPTER  XL      -----      Religious  Life  of  Lee's  Army. 

Revival  in  Barksdale's  Brigade  at  Fredericksburg — A  Model 
Chaplain — Personal  Conferences  with  Comrades — A  Prayer  Be- 
tween the  Lines — A  Percussion  Shell  at  Gettysburg 138 


CHAPTER  XII.      Between  Fredericksburg  and  Chancellorsville. 

Our  Mother  and  Sisters  Arrive  From  the  North — A  Horse's 
Instinct  of  Locality  and  Direction — Our  Artillery  Battalion  and 
Its  Commander — Commerce  Across  the  Rappahannock — Snow- 
ball Battles — A  Commission  in  Engineer  Troops —  An  Appoint- 
ment on  Jackson's  Staff — Characteristic  Interview  Between  Gen- 
eral Jackson  and  My  Father — The  Army  Telegraph — President 
Lincoln's  Letter — Hooker's  Plan  Really  Great,  But  Lee's  Audac- 
ity and  His  Army  Equal  to  Any  Crisis — Head  of  Column,  to  the 
Left  or  to  the  Right 152 


CHAPTER  XIII.      --------      Chancellorsville. 

On  the  March — The  Light  Division  Passes  Our  Guns — Marse 
Robert  Passes  the  Light  Division — The  Two  Little  Dogs  of  the 
Battalion — Two  of  Our  Guns  Take  Chancellorsville  in  Reverse 
— Interview  with  General  McLaws — Entire  Regiment  from  New 
Haven,  Conn.,  Captured — Brother  William  and  Marse  Robert — 


Xll  CONTENTS 


Sedgwick — Hooker — His    Battle    Orders — His    Compliment    to 
Lee's  Army — Lee's  Order  Announcing  Jackson's  Death 168 


CHAPTER  XIV.      -      From  the  Rappahannock  to  the   Potomac. 

The  Engineer  Troops — Jubal  Early — His  Ability  and  Devo- 
tion— His  Caustic  Tongue — Lee  a  Master  of  the  "Offensive  De- 
fensive"— His  Army  Organized  into  Three  Corps — He  Turns 
Northward  and  Maneuvers  Hooker  Out  of  His  Position  on  the 
Rappahannock — The  Battle  of  Winchester — Fine  Work — Large 
Captures — Scenes  and  Incidents  of  the  Battle 183 


CHAPTER  XV.       --------       In  Pennsylvania. 

Impressing  Horses  the  Only  Plundering  Lee's  Army  Did — A 
Remarkable  Interview  with  An  Old  Lady  in  a  Pennsylvania 
Town — She  Expects  to  Meet  Stonewall  Jackson  in  Heaven — 
Two  Pennsylvania  Boys  Make  Friends  with  the  Rebels — "Extra 
Billy"  Leads  the  Confederate  Column  into  York,  His  Brigade 
Band  Playing  "Yankee  Doodle,"  and  Makes  a  Speech  on  the 
Public  Green — "Old  Jube"  Breaks  Up  the  Meeting — "Dick" 
Ewell  and  the  Burghers  of  Carlisle 199 


CHAPTER    XVI.        ---------        Gettysburg. 

Lee  Without  His  Cavalry — The  Battle,  When  and  Where 
Fought,  An  Accident — The  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  in 
Splendid  Condition — Gordon  on  Black  Auster — A  Fistic  En- 
counter at  the  Crisis  of  the  Great  Battle — "Limber  to  the  Rear" 
— A  Great  Disappointment — A  Desperate  Ride —  Dead  Enemies 
More  to  Be  Dreaded  Than  Living  Ones — The  Dutch  Woman's 
Ankles    207 


CONTENTS  Xlll 

CHAPTER  XVII.      -      Between  Gettysburg  and  the  Wilderness. 

Lee  Orders  His  Generals  of  Division  to  Report  the  Condition 
of  Their  Troops — McLaws  Makes  the  Rounds  of  His  Division — 
Back  in  the  Old  Dominion — Tuck  and  Marse  Robert,  Dragon 
and  Logan — Meade  an  Able  and  Wary  Opponent — The  Homes 
of  the  People  Within  the  Lines  of  the  Army — A  Preacher-Cap- 
tain Metes  Out  Stern  and  Speedy  Justice — Lee  Smarting  Under 
the  Tete-de-pont  Disaster — Pegram  Meets  Two  of  His  Old 
Troopers — Mine  Run — Mickey  Free  and  the  Persimmons — 
Horses  Under  Artillery  Fire — Two  Important  Movements  of  the 
Federal    Forces 222 


CHAPTER  XVIII.      -  Campaign  of  '64 — the  Wilderness. 

Grant — His  Rough  Chivalry — His  Imperturbable  Grit — His 
Theory  of  Attrition — Its  Effect  Upon  the  Spirit  of  Lee's  Army 
— An  Artilleryman  of  that  Army  in  Campaign  Trim — Sundown 
Prayer-meetings — The  Wilderness  an  Infantry  Fight — A  Cup 
of  Coffee  With  Gen.  Ewell  in  the  Forest — Ewell  and  Jackson — 
Longstreet  Struck  Down 238 


CHAPTER  XIX.      ---------     Spottsylvania. 

Death  of  a  Gallant  Boy— Mickey  Free  Hard  to  Kill— The  10th 
and  12th  of  May — Handsome  Conduct  of  the  "Napoleon  Sec- 
tion" of  the  Howitzers — Frying  Pan  as  Sword  and  Banner — 
Prayer  with  a  Dying  Federal  Soldier — "Trot  Out  Your  Deaf 
Man  and  Your  Old  Doctor" — The  Base  of  the  Bloody  Angle — 
The  Musketry  Fire — Majestic  Equipose  of  Marse  Robert 249 


CHAPTER  XX.      -      -      -      From  Spottsylvania  to  Cold  Harbor. 

Another  Slide  to  the  East,  and  Another,  and  Another — The 
Armies  Straining  Like  Two  Coursers,  Side  by  Side,  for  the  Next 


XIV  CONTENTS 

Goal — Grant  Waiting  for  Reinforcements — Lee  Seriously  Indis- 
posed— One  of  His  Three  Corps  Commanders  Disabled  by 
Wounds,  Another  by  Sickness — Mickey  and  the  Children — "It 
Beats  a  Furlough  Hollow" — A  Baby  in  Battle — Death  of  Law- 
rence M.  Keitt  and  Demoralization  of  His  Command — Splen- 
did Services  of  Lieut.  Robt.  Falligant,  of  Georgia,  with  a  Single 
Gun — Hot  Fighting  the  Evening  of  June  1st — Building  Roads 
and  Bridges  and  Getting  Ready  June  2d — Removal  of  Falligant's 
Lone  Gun  at  Night 266 


CHAPTER  XXI. ".-■"-     Cold  Harbor  of '64. 

The  Great  Fight  of  June  3d — Unparalleled  in  Brevity,  in 
Slaughter,  and  in  Disproportion  of  Loss — Grant  Assaults  in 
Column,  or  in  Mass — His  Troops  Refuse  to  Renew  the  Attack 
— Effect  at  the  North — Confederate  "Works"  in  the  Campaign 
of  '64 — The  Lines — Sharpshooting — The  Covered  Way — The 
Spring — Death  of  Captain  McCarthy,  of  the  Howitzers — How 
It  Occurred  on  the  Lines — How  It  Was  Received  in  the  City — 
My  Brother  Loses  An  Eye — "Alone  in  the  World" — A  last  Look 
at  the  Enemy — Buildings  Felled  and  Scattered  by  Artillery — 
Gun  Wheels  Cut  Down  by  Musketry — Bronze  Guns  Splotched 
and  Pitted  Like  Smallpox — Epitome  of  the  Campaign  of  '64 — 
Maneuvering  of  No  Avail  Against  Lee's  Army — Did  That  Army 
Make  Lee,  or  Lee  That  Army  ? 285 

CHAPTER  XXII.    From  Cold  Harbor  to  Evacuation  of  Richmond 
and  Petersburg. 

Grant's  Change  of  Base — Petersburg  Proves  to  Be  His  Imme- 
diate Objective — Lee  Just  in  Time  to  Prevent  the  Capture  of  the 
City — Our  Battalion  Stationed  First  in  the  Petersburg  Lines, 
Then  Between  the  James  and  the  Appomattox — The  Writer 
Commissioned  Major  of  Artillery  and  Ordered  to  Chaffin's 
Bluff — The    Battalion    There    Greatly    Demoralized — Measures 


CONTENTS  XV 
Adopted  to  Tone  It  Up — Rapid  Downward  Trend  of  the  Con- 
federacy— "A  Kid  of  the  Goats"  Gives  a  Lesson  in  Pluck 307 


CHAPTER  XXIII.    The  Retreat  from  Chaffin's  Bluff  to  Sailor's 

Creek. 

On  the  Works,  Sunday  Evening,  April  2d,  '65,  Listening  to 
the  Receding  Fire  at  Petersburg — Evening  Service  with  the 
Men  Interrupted  by  the  Order  to  Evacuate  the  Lines — Explo- 
sions of  the  Magazines  of  the  Land  Batteries  and  Iron-Clads — 
A  Soldier's  Wife  Sends  Her  Husband  Word  to  Desert,  But 
Recalls  the  Message — Marching,  Halting,  Marching,  Day  after 
Day,  Night  After  Night — Lack  of  Food,  Lack  of  Rest,  Lack  of 
Sleep — Many  Drop  by  the  Wayside,  Others  Lose  Self-control 
and  Fire  into  Each  Other — In  the  Bloody  Fight  of  the  6th  at 
Sailor's  Creek,  the  Battalion  Redeems  Itself,  Goes  Down  with 
Flying  Colors,  and  Is  Complimented  on  the  Field  by  General 
Ewell,  After  He  and  All  Who  Are  Left  of  Us  Are  Prisoners 
of  War 320 


CHAPTER  XXIV.     Fatal  Mistake  of  the  Confederate  Military 

Authorities. 

The  Love  of  Glory  the  Inspiration  of  the  Soldier — Prompt 
Promotion  the  Life  of  an  Army — How  Napoleon  Applied  These 
Principles — How  the  Controlling  Military  Authorities  of  the 
Confederacy  Ignored  Them — The  Material  of  the  Confederate 
Armies  Superb,  Their  Development  as  Soldiers  Neglected — 
Decoration  for  Gallantry,  and  Promotion  on  the  Field  Unknown 
m  the  Confederate  Service — Lee  Himself  Without  Authority  to 
Confer  Such  Promotion  or  Distinction — Contrasted  Spirit  and 
Practice  of  the  Federal  Authorities  and  Armies — Grotesque 
Absurdity  of  an  Elective  Roll  of  Military  Honor 336 


XVI  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XXV.       -       -      -       -       -----       Potpourri. 

Startling  Figures  as  to  the  Numbers  and  Losses  of  the  Fed- 
eral Armies  During  the  War — Demoralizing  Influence  of  Earth- 
works— Attrition  and  Starvation — Lack  of  Sleep  vs.  Lack  of 
Food — Night  Blindness  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia — 
Desertions  from  the  Confederate  Armies — Prison  Life — De- 
Forest  Medal — Gen.  Lee's  Hat 346 


CHAPTER  XXVI.      -                          Analysis    of   the    Soldier-life. 
358 


FOUR  YEARS  UNDER 
MARSE  ROBERT 


CHAPTER  I 

EXPLANATION  OF  THE  TITLE SCHEME  OF  THE  WORK 

"Four  years  under  Marse  Robert." 

At  the  first  blush  this  title  may  strike  one  as  inaccurate, 
lacking  in  dignity,  and  bordering  on  the  sensational.  Yet 
the  author  prefers  it  to  any  other  and  is  ready  to  defend  it ; 
while  admitting,  though  this  may  seem  inconsistent,  that 
explanations  are  in  order. 

Not  one  of  his  men  was  an  actual  follower  of  Robert 
Lee  for  four  full  years.  In  fact,  he  was  not  himself  in  the 
military  service  of  Virginia  and  of  the  Confederate  States 
together  for  that  length  of  time,  and  he  did  not  assume  per- 
sonal command  of  what  was  then  the  Confederate  "Army 
of  the  Potomac"  and  later,  under  his  leadership,  became 
the  "Army  of  Northern  Virginia,"  until  June  I,  1862. 

But  more  than  a  year  before,  indeed  just  after  the  seces- 
sion of  the  State,  Governor  Letcher  had  appointed  Lee  to 
the  chief  command  of  the  Virginia  troops,  which,  under  his 
plastic  hand,  in  spite  of  vast  obstacles,  were  turned  over  in 
a  few  weeks  in  fair  soldierly  condition  to  the  Confederate 
Government,  and  became  the  nucleus  of  the  historic  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia ;  and  their  commander  was  created  one 
of  the  five  full  generals  provided  for  by  law  in  the  military 
service  of  the  Confederate  States. 

As  full  general  in  the  Confederate  service,  Lee  was  not 
at  first  assigned  to  particular  command,  but  remained  at 
Richmond  as  "Military  Adviser  to  the  President."     In  that 


l8  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

position,  as  also  in  his  assignment,  somewhat  later,  to  the 
conduct,  under  the  advice  of  the  President,  of  the  operations 
of  all  the  armies  of  the  Confederate  States,  he  of  course  had 
more  or  less  supervision  and  control  of  the  armies  in  Vir- 
ginia. Such  continued  to  be  Lee's  position  and  duties,  and 
his  relations  to  the  troops  in  Virginia,  until  General  Joseph 
E.  Johnston,  commanding  the  army  defending  Richmond, 
was  struck  down  at  Seven  Pines,  or  Fair  Oaks,  June  ist, 
1862,  when  President  Davis  appointed  Lee  to  succeed  him 
in  command  of  that  army. 

From  this  brief  review  it  appears  clearly  that  the  men 
who,  after  June  ist,  1862,  followed  Lee's  banner  and  were 
under  his  immediate  command  were,  even  before  that  time 
and  from  the  very  outset,  in  a  large  and  true  sense  his 
soldiers  and  under  his  control;  so  that,  while  strictly  speak- 
ing no  soldier  followed  Lee  for  four  years,  yet  we  who 
served  in  Virginia  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the 
war  are  entitled,  in  the  customary  and  popular  sense,  to 
speak  of  our  term  of  service  as  "Four  years  under  Lee." 

But  our  claim  is,  "Four  years  under  Marse  Robert/'' 
Why  "Marse  Robert  ?" 

So,  in  Innes  Randolph's  inimitable  song,  "A  Good  Old 
Rebel,"  the  hero  thus  vaunts  his  brief  but  glorious  annals : 

"I  followed  old  Mars'  Robert 
For  four  year,  near  about; 
Got  wounded  in  three  places 
And  starved  at  Pint  Lookout." 

Again,  why  "Marse  Robert?" 

The  passion  of  soldiers  for  nicknaming  their  favorite 
leaders,  re-christening  them  according  to  their  unfettered 
fancy  and  their  own  sweet  will,  is  well  known.  "The  Little 
Corporal,"  "The  Iron  Duke,"  "Marshall  Forwards," 
"Bobs,"  "Bobs  Bahadur,"  "Little  Mac,"  "Little  Phil," 
"Fighting  Joe,"  "Stonewall,"  "Old  Jack,"  "Old  Pete," 
"Old  Jube,"  "Jubilee,"  "Rooney,"  "Fitz,"  "Marse  Robert" 
— all  these  and  many  more  are  familiar.  There  is  something 
grotesque  about  most  of  them  and  in  many,  seemingly,  rank 
disrespect.    Yet  the  habit  has  never  been  regarded  as  a  vio- 


EXPLANATION  OF  THE  TITLE  19 

lation  of  military  law,  and  the  commanding  general  of  an 
army,  if  a  staunch  fighter,  and  particularly  if  victory  often 
perches  on  his  banner,  is  very  apt  to  win  the  noways  doubt- 
ful compliment  of  this  rough  and  ready  knighthood  from 
his  devoted  troops.  But  however  this  may  be,  "Marse  Rob- 
ert" is  far  away  above  the  rest  of  these  soldier  nicknames  in 
pathos  and  in  power. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  essentially  military. 

Though  in  form  and  style  as  far  as  possible  removed 
from  that  model,  this  quaint  title  yet  rings  true  upon  the 
elemental  basis  of  military  life — unquestioning  and  unlim- 
ited obedience.  It  embodies  the  strongest  possible  expres- 
sion of  the  short  creed  of  the  soldier : 

"Their's  not  to  reason  why, 
Their's  but  to  do  and  die." 

I  do  not  believe  an  army  ever  existed  which  surpassed 
Lee's  ragged  veterans  in  hearty  acceptance  and  daily  prac- 
tice of  this  soldier  creed,  and  there  is  no  telling  to  what 
extent  their  peculiar  nickname  for  their  leader  was  re- 
sponsible for  this  characteristic  trait  of  his  followers.  Men 
who  spoke  habitually  of  their  commanding  general  as  "Mas- 
ter" could  not  but  feel  the  reflex  influence  of  this  habit  upon 
their  own  character  as  soldiers.  This  much  may  certainly 
be  said  of  this  graphic  title  of  the  great  captain ;  but  this  is 
not  all. 

"Marse  Robert !"  It  goes  without  saying  that  the  title  is 
distinctively  Southern. 

The  homely  phrase  was  an  embodiment  of  the  earliest 
and  strongest  associations  of  the  men  applied  in  reverent 
affection,  but  also  in  defiant  yet  pathetic  protest.  It  was,  in 
some  sense,  an  outcry  of  the  social  system  of  the  South  as- 
sailed and  imperilled  by  the  war  and  doomed  to  perish  in 
the  great  convulsion.  The  title  "Marse  Robert"  fitted  at 
once  the  life  of  the  soldier  and  the  life  of  the  slave,  because 
both  were  based  upon  the  principle  of  absolute  obedience  to 
absolute  authority. 

In  this  connection  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  note 
— what  is  perhaps  not  generally  known — that  during  the 


20  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

last  months  of  the  war  the  Confederate  authorities  can- 
vassed seriously  the  policy  of  arming  the  Southern  slaves 
and  putting  them  in  the  field  as  soldiers.  I  was  told  by  a 
leading  member  of  the  Senate  of  Virginia  that,  by  special 
invitation,  General  Lee  came  over  from  Petersburg  and 
appeared  before,  as  I  remember,  a  joint  committee  of  the 
two  Houses,  to  which  this  matter  had  been  referred,  and 
gave  his  opinion  in  favor  of  the  experiment  upon  the  ground, 
mainly,  that  unhesitating  and  unlimited  obedience — the  first 
great  lesson  of  the  soldier — was  ingrained,  if  not  inborn,  in 
the  Southern  slave. 

Yet  once  more — to  christen  Lee  "Master"  was  an  act  of 
homage  peculiarly  appropriate  to  his  lofty  and  masterful 
personality. 

There  never  could  have  been  a  second  "Marse  Robert;" 
as,  but  for  the  unparalleled  elevation  and  majesty  of  his 
character  and  bearing,  there  would  never  have  been  the 
first.  He  was  of  all  men  most  attractive  to  us,  yet  by  no 
means  most  approachable.  We  loved  him  much,  but  we 
revered  him  more.  We  never  criticised,  never  doubted  him ; 
never  attributed  to  him  either  moral  error  or  mental  weak- 
ness; no,  not  even  in  our  secret  hearts  or  most  audacious 
thoughts.  I  really  believe  it  would  have  strained  and 
blurred  our  strongest  and  clearest  conceptions  of  the  dis- 
tinction between  right  and  wrong  to  have  entertained,  even 
for  a  moment,  the  thought  that  he  had  ever  acted  from 
any  other  than  the  purest  and  loftiest  motive.  I  never  but 
once  heard  of  such  a  suggestion,  and  then  it  so  transported 
the  hearers  that  military  subordination  was  forgotten  and 
the  colonel  who  heard  it  rushed  with  drawn  sword  against 
the  major-general  who  made  it. 

The  proviso  with  which  a  ragged  rebel  accepted  the  doc- 
trine of  evolution,  that  "the  rest  of  us  may  have  descended 
or  ascended  from  monkeys,  but  it  took  a  God  to  make  Marse 
Robert,"  had  more  than  mere  humor  in  it. 

I  am  not  informed  whether  the  figure  of  speech  to  which 
I  am  about  to  refer  ever  obtained  outside  the  South,  or 
whether  its  use  among  us  was  generally  known  beyond  our 
borders.     It  undoubtedly  originated  with  our  negroes,  being 


EXPLANATION  OF  THE  TITLE  21 

an  expression  of  their  affectionate  reverence  for  their  mas- 
ters, by  metaphor,  transferred  to  the  one  great  "Lord  and 
Master"  of  us  all ;  but  it  is  certainly  also  true  that  Southern 
white  men,  and  especially  Southern  soldiers,  were  in  the 
habit — and  that  without  the  least  consciousness  of  irrever- 
ence— of  referring  to  the  Divine  Being  as  "Old  Marster,"  in 
connection  especially  with  our  inability  to  comprehend  His 
inscrutable  providences  and  our  duty  to  bow  to  His  irre- 
versible decrees.  There  is  no  way  in  which  I  can  illustrate 
more  vividly  the  almost  worship  with  which  Lee's  soldiers 
regarded  him  than  by  saying  that  I  once  overheard  a  conver- 
sation beside  a  camp  fire  between  two  Calvinists  in  Confed- 
erate rags  and  tatters,  shreds  and  patches,  in  which  one  sim- 
ply and  sincerely  inquired  of  his  fellow,  who  had  just  spoken 
of  "Old  Marster,"  whether  he  referred  to  "the  one  up  at 
headquarters  or  the  One  up  yonder." 

We  never  compared  him  with  other  men,  either  friend  or 
foe.  He  was  in  a  superlative  and  absolute  class  by  himself. 
Beyond  a  vague  suggestion,  after  the  death  of  Jackson,  as 
to  what  might  have  been  if  he  had  lived,  I  cannot  recall 
even  an  approach  to  a  comparative  estimate  of  Lee. 

As  to  his  opponents,  we  recked  not  at  all  of  them,  but 
only  of  the  immense  material  force  behind  them;  and  as  to 
that,  we  trusted  our  commanding  general  like  a  providence. 
There  was  at  first  a  mild  amusement  in  the  rapid  succes- 
sion of  the  Federal  commanders,  but  even  this  grew  a  little 
trite  and  tame.  There  was,  however,  one  point  of  great 
interest  in  it,  and  that  was  our  amazement  that  an  army 
could  maintain  even  so  much  as  its  organization  under  the 
depressing  strain  of  these  successive  appointments  and 
removals  of  its  commanding  generals.  And  to-day  I,  for 
one,  regard  the  fact  that  it  did  preserve  its  cohesion  and  its 
fighting  power  under  and  in  spite  of  such  experiences,  as 
furnishing  impressive  demonstration  of  the  high  character 
and  intense  loyalty  of  our  historic  foe,  the  Federal  Army  of 
the  Potomac. 

As  to  the  command  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
so  far  as  I  know  or  have  reason  to  believe,  but  one  man  in  the 
Confederate  States  ever  dared  to  suggest  a  change,  and  that 


22  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

one  was  Lee  himself,  who — after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg, 
and  again,  I  think,  though  I  cannot  verify  it,  when  his 
health  gave  way  for  a  time  under  the  awful  strain  of  the 
campaign  of  '64 — suggested  that  it  might  be  well  he  should 
give  way  to  a  younger  and  stronger  man.  But  the  fact  is, 
that  Lee's  preeminent  fitness  for  supreme  command  was  so 
universally  recognized  that,  in  spite  of  the  obligation  of  a 
soldier  to  undertake  the  duties  of  any  position  to  which  he 
may  be  assigned  by  competent  authority,  I  doubt  whether 
there  was  an  officer  in  all  the  armies  of  the  Confederacy  who 
would  have  consented  to  accept  appointment  as  Lee's  suc- 
cessor in  command  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia — 
possibly  there  was  one — and  I  am  yet  more  disposed  to  ques- 
tion whether  that  army  would  have  permitted  Lee  to  resign 
his  place  or  any  other  to  take  it.  Looking  back  over  its 
record,  from  Seven  Pines  to  Appomattox,  I  am  satisfied  that 
the  unquestioned  and  unquestionable  preeminence,  predomi- 
nance, and  permanence  of  Lee,  as  its  commander-in-chief, 
was  one  of  the  main  elements  which  made  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  what  it  was. 

I  have  said  we  never  criticised  him.  I  ought,  perhaps, 
to  make  one  qualification  of  this  statement.  It  has  been 
suggested  by  others  and  I  have  myself  once  or  twice  felt 
that  Lee  was  too  lenient,  too  full  of  sweet  charity  and  allow- 
ance. He  did  not,  as  Jackson  did,  instantly  and  relentlessly 
remove  incompetent  officers. 


The  picture  is  before  you,  and  yet  it  is  not  intended  as  a 
full  picture,  but  only  as  such  a  presentation  of  him,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  his  soldiers,  as  will  explain  and  justify 
the  quaint  title  which  they  habitually  applied  to  their  great 
commander.  I  have  not  attempted  and  shall  not  attempt  a 
complete  portrait.  Why  should  I,  when  the  most  eloquent 
tongues  and  pens  of  two  continents  have  labored  to  present, 
with  fitting  eulogy,  the  character  and  career  of  our  great 
Cavalier.  It  is  our  patent  of  nobilty  that  he  is  to-day  re- 
garded— the  world  over — as  the  representative  of  the  sol- 
diery of  the  South. 


EXPLANATION  OF  THE  TITLE  23 

Not  only  is  it  true  of  him,  as  already  intimated,  that  he 
uniformly  acted  from  the  highest  motive  presented  to  his 
soul — but  so  impressive  and  all-compelling  was  the  majesty 
of  his  virtue  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  any  one  ever  ques- 
tioned aught  of  this.  It  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  say  that 
the  common  consensus  of  Christendom — friend  and  foe  and 
neutral — ranks  him  as  one  of  the  greatest  captains  of  the 
ages  and  attributes  to  him  more  of  the  noblest  virtues  and 
powers,  with  less  of  the  ordinary  selfishness  and  littleness 
of  humanity,  than  to  any  other  great  soldier.  This  is  what 
is  meant  by  our  dedication — that  the  world  has  come  to  view 
him  very  much  as  his  ragged  followers  did  in  the  grand  days 
when  they  were  helping  him  to  make  history. 

Can  you  point  to  another  representative  man  upon  whom 
the  light  of  modern  day  has  been  focussed  with  such  inten- 
sity, of  whom  these  supreme  things  may  be  said  with  so 
little  strain ;  or  rather,  with  acquiescence  practically  univer- 
sal? For  our  part,  we  say  emphatically — we  know  not 
where  to  look  for  the  man. 

The  scheme  of  this  book  is  a  modest  one.  The  author 
makes  no  pretense  that  he  is  qualified  to  write  history  or  to 
discuss  learnedly,  from  a  professional  standpoint,  the  bat- 
tles and  campaigns  of  armies ;  while  of  course  an  old  veteran 
cannot  be  expected  always  and  absolutely  to  refrain  from 
saying  how  the  thing  looked  to  him.  All  that  is  really  pro- 
posed— and  the  writer  will  be  more  than  content  if  he  acquit 
himself  fairly  well  of  this  limited  design — is  to  state  clearly 
and  truthfully  what  he  saw  and  experienced  as  a  private  sol- 
dier and  subordinate  officer  in  the  military  service  of  the 
Confederate  States  in  Virginia  from  '61  to  '65. 

It  is  not  proposed,  however,  to  give  a  consecutive  recital 
of  all  that  occurred  during  these  four  years,  even  within 
the  narrow  range  of  the  writer's  observation  and  experience ; 
but  rather  to  select  and  record  such  incidents,  arranged  of 
course  in  a  general  orderly  sequence,  as  are  deemed  to  be  of 
inherent  interest,  or  to  shed  light  upon  the  portrait  of  the 
Confederate  soldier,  the  personality  of  prominent  actors  in 
the  war  drama  upon  the  Southern  side,  the  salient  points 


24  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

of  the  great  conflict,  or  the  general  conditions  of  life  in  and 
behind  the  Confederate  lines. 

Again,  such  are  the  imperfections  of  human  observation 
and  such  the  irregularities  and  errors  of  human  memory, 
especially  in  the  record  of  events  long  past,  that  many  may 
be  disposed  to  question  the  value  of  such  a  book  as  this, 
written  to-day,  relating  to  our  civil  war.  I  can  only  reply 
that  not  a  few  of  the  incidents  recorded  were  reduced  to 
writing  years  ago,  indeed  soon  after  they  occurred ;  while 
perhaps  as  much  has  been  gained  in  perspective  as  has  been 
lost  in  detail,  by  waiting.  Certainly  it  can  be  better  deter- 
mined to-day  what  is  worthy  of  preservation  and  publica- 
tion than  it  could  have  been  immediately  after  the  war. 

The  slips  and  vagaries  of  memory,  however,  cannot  be 
denied  or  excluded.  It  can  only  be  said,  "forewarned  is 
forearmed."  I  shall  endeavor  to  exercise  that  conscientious 
care  which  the  character  of  the  work  requires,  but  cannot 
hope  to  attain  uniform  and  unerring  accuracy  in  every  detail. 
In  the  record  of  conversations,  interviews,  and  speeches  I 
shall  sometimes  adopt  the  form  of  direct  quotation,  even 
where  not  able  to  recall  the  precise  words  employed  by  the 
speakers  and  interlocutors — if  I  am  satisfied  this  form  of 
narrative  will  best  convey  the  real  spirit  of  the  occasion. 

And  as  the  writer  is2  in  the  main,  to  relate  what  he  saw 
and  heard  and  did,  he  craves  in  advance  charitable  toleration 
of  the  first  personal  pronoun  in  the  singular  number. 


CHAPTER  II 

INTRODUCTORY    SKETCHES 

Ante-war  History  of  the  Author — The  Fight  for  the  "Speakership"  in 
i860 — Vallandigham,  of  Ohio — Richmond  After  the  John  Brown 
Raid — Whig  and  Democratic  Conventions  of  Virginia  in  i36o. 

There  are  features  of  my  antecedent  personal  history  cal- 
culated, perhaps,  to  impart  a  somewhat  special  interest  to 
my  experiences  as  a  Confederate  soldier.  I  was  the  eldest 
son  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  C.  Stiles,  a  Presbyterian  minister, 
born  in  Georgia,  where  his  ancestors  had  lived  and  died 
for  generations,  but  who  moved  to  the  North  and,  from  my 
boyhood,  had  lived  in  New  York  City  and  in  New  Haven, 
Conn.  I  was  prepared  for  college  in  the  schools  of  these  two 
cities  and  was  graduated  at  Yale  in  1859.  It  so  happened 
that  I  had  never  visited  the  South  since  the  original  removal 
of  the  family,  which  occurred  when  I  was  some  twelve  years 
of  age ;  so  that  practically  all  my  education,  associations  and 
friendships  were  Northern.  True,  I  took  position  as  a 
Southerner  in  all  our  college  discussions  and  debates,  but 
never  as  a  "fire-eater"  or  secessionist.  Indeed,  I  was  a 
strong  "Union  man"  and  voted  for  Bell  and  Everett  in  i860. 

After  my  graduation  in  1859  I  passed  the  late  summer 
and  autumn  in  the  Adirondack  woods  fishing  and  hunting 
with  several  classmates,  and  devoted  the  rest  of  the  year  to 
general  reading  and  some  little  teaching,  in  New  Haven; 
until,  becoming  deeply  interested  in  the  fierce  struggle  over 
the  Speakership  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  I  went  to 
Washington,  and  from  the  galleries  of  the  House  and  Sen- 
ate eagerly  overhung  the  great  final  debates.  I  had  paid 
close  attention  to  oratory  during  my  college  course  and  I 
doubt  whether  there  was  another  onlooker  in  the  Capitol 
more  deeply  absorbed  than  I.     On  more  than  one  occasion 


26  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER    MARSE   ROBERT 

the  excitement  and  pressure  of  the  crowd  in  the  galleries 
of  the  House  was  fearful,  and  once  at  least  persons  were 
dragged  out,  more  dead  than  alive,  over  the  heads  of  others 
sc  densely  packed  that  they  could  not  move;  but  I  never 
failed  to  secure  a  front  seat. 

I  grew  well  acquainted — that  is,  by  sight — with  the  party 
leaders,  and  recall,  among  others,  Seward  and  Douglas  and 
Breckenridge,  Davis  and  Toombs  and  Benjamin,  in  the  Sen- 
ate ;  Sherman  and  Stevens,  Logan  and  Vallandigham, 
Pryor  and  Keitt,  Bocock  and  Barksdale,  and  Smith,  of  Vir- 
ginia, in  the  House.  It  became  intensely  interesting  to  me 
to  observe  the  part  some  of  these  men  played  later  in  the 
great  drama:  Seward  as  the  leading  figure  of  Lincoln's 
Cabinet;  Davis  as  President  of  the  Southern  Confederacy; 
Benjamin,  Toombs,  and  Breckenridge  as  members  of  his 
Cabinet,  the  two  latter  also  as  generals  whom  I  have  more 
than  once  seen  commanding  troops  in  battle;  "Black  Jack" 
Logan, — hottest  of  all  the  hotspurs  of  the  extreme  Southern 
wing  of  the  Democratic  party  in  the  House  in  i860, — we  all 
know  where  he  was  from  '61  to  '65  ;  and  glorious  old  "Extra 
Billy"  Smith,  soldier  and  governor  by  turns ;  Barksdale,  who 
fell  at  Gettysburg,  was  my  general,  commanding  the  infan- 
try brigade  I  knew  and  loved  best  of  all  in  Lee's  army  and 
which  often  supported  our  guns ;  and  poor  Keitt !  I  saw  him 
fall  at  Cold  Harbor  in  '64  and  helped  to  rally  his  shattered 
command. 

The  Republican  party  had  nominated  John  Sherman  for 
Speaker,  and  he  was  resisted  largely  upon  the  ground  of  his 
endorsement  of  Hinton  Rowan  Helper's  book,  which  was 
understood  as  inciting  the  negro  slaves  of  the  South  to  in- 
surrection, fire,  and  blood.  The  John  Brown  raid  had  oc- 
curred recently,  and  Col.  Robert  E.  Lee  had  led  the  party  of 
United  States  Marines  which  captured  the  raiders  and  their 
leader.  They  had  just  been  convicted  and  executed  as  mur- 
derers. The  excitement  was  frightful  and  ominous,  and 
scenes  of  the  wildest  disorder  occurred  in  the  House.  One 
of  these  was  in  every  way  so  remarkable  that  I  ask  leave  to 
describe  it  somewhat  fully. 

The  Republican  leaders  had  become  convinced  they  could 
not  elect   Sherman,   and  about  the  same  time  the  Demo 


INTRODUCTORY    SKETCHES  27 

crats,  seeing  there  was  no  possibility  of  electing  their 
original  candidate,  Thomas  S.  Bocock,  of  Virginia,  had  put 
up  William  N.  H.  Smith,  of  North  Carolina,  an  old  line 
Whig,  or  Southern  American,  and  it  seemed  certain  they 
would  elect  him.  Indeed,  he  was  elected  and  his  election 
telegraphed  all  over  the  land;  but  before  the  result  of  the 
ballot  could  be  announced,  Henry  Winter  Davis,  of  Mary- 
land, and  E.  Joy  Morris,  of  Pennsylvania,  as  I  recollect, 
Northern  Americans  or  Republicans,  who  had  voted  for 
Smith,  changed  their  votes  and  everything  was  again  at 
sea.  It  was  then  openly  proposed  to  withdraw  Sherman; 
and  John  Hickman,  of  Pennsylvania,  who  had  been  elected 
as  an  anti-Lecompton  Democrat,  but  had  gone  over  to  the 
Republicans,  took  the  floor  to  resist  what  he  characterized 
as  cowardice  and  treachery.  Hickman  had  not  voted  for 
Sherman  until  the  crisis  was  reached,  but  had  been  openly 
charged,  on  the  floor  of  the  House,  with  secretly  desiring 
and  plotting  to  elect  him.  Pryor  and  Keitt  and  other  hot- 
headed Southerners  had  attacked  Hickman  fiercely,  and 
leading  Northern  Democrats  had  upbraided  him  for  his  de- 
sertion. Under  these  taunts  and  thrusts  he  had  become  the 
bitterest  man  upon  the  floor. 

In  the  gloom  which  seemed  to  overshadow  the  House, 
Hickman,  as  he  rose,  looked  pale,  repellent,  ghastly,  almost 
ghostly.  Repeatedly  during  his  harangue,  which  was  really 
one  of  great  power,  he  walked  from  his  seat  in  the  back  part 
of  the  House,  down  the  narrow  aisle  toward  the  Clerk's 
desk,  his  right  arm  lifted  high  above  his  head,  his  fist  clinch- 
ed and  his  whole  frame  trembling  with  passion,  and  as  he 
reached  the  open  space  in  front  of  the  desk  he  would  shriek 
out  the  climax  of  a  paragraph,  simultaneously  smashing  his 
fist  wildly  down  upon  a  table  that  stood  there. 

The  speech  produced  a  profound,  almost  awful,  impres- 
sion. I  remember  the  peroration  as  if  it  were  yesterday,  as 
he  shouted,  on  his  last  stride  down  the  aisle,  glaring  around 
upon  his  Republican  associates :  "I  know  not  and  I  care 
not  what  others  may  do,  but  as  for  me  and  my  house,  we 
intend  to  vote  for  John  Sherman — until  Gabriel's  last  trump, 
the  crack  of  doom,  and  the  day  of  judgment." 


28  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

In  spite  of  this  powerful  protest,  as  soon  as  the  dilatory 
tactics  of  the  opposition  were  exhausted  and  the  ballot  was 
called,  it  became  evident  that  Sherman  had  been  withdrawn ; 
indeed  he  withdrew  his  own  name,  and  Pennington,  of  New 
Jersey,  a  moderate  Republican,  and  personally  an  unobjec- 
tionable man,  was  put  up  in  his  place.  There  was  nothing 
that  could  now  be  done;  this  call  of  the  roll  would  end  it  all. 

The  Democrats  went  wild  and  every  moment  wilder,  as 
the  Republicans — even  John  Sherman's  most  devoted  friends 
as  their  names  were  called — one  after  another  fell  into  line 
and  voted,  full-voiced,  for  "Pennington."  That  is,  all  the 
Democrats  went  wild  except  Vallandigham,  of  Ohio.  He 
sat  coolly  in  his  seat,  while  Barksdale,  Keitt,  Houston,  Lo- 
gan, and  the  rest  surged  around  him.  When  they  appealed 
to  him,  with  excited  gesticulations,  he  simply  brushed  them 
aside  and  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  particular  spot  on  the  Re- 
publican side.  As  Hickman's  name  was  called  and  he  rose 
and  voted  for  Pennington,  Vallandigham  sprang  to  his  feet 
and,  stretching  out  his  right  arm  toward  the  Clerk's  desk, 
in  a  long,  resonant  drawl  that  would  not  be  drowned,  he 
shouted :  "Mr.  Clerk,  I  move  that  this  House  do  now  ad- 
journ !" 

Cries  from  the  Republican  side  :  "Sit  down !  Sit  down ! 
Order !     Order !    You  can't  interrupt  the  ballot !    Sit  down ! 

But  Vallandigham  went  right  on.  He  would  not  sit  down, 
and  he  would  interrupt  the  ballot — and  he  did. 

"Mr.  Clerk,  I  move  that  this  House  do  now  adjourn,  es- 
pecially, sir" — both  arms  now  extended,  mouth  wide  open, 
eyes  wide  staring — "especially,  sir,  since  we  have  just  had 
Gabriel's  last  trump,  the  crack  of  doom  and  the  day  of 
judgment!" 

I  question  if  anything  like  it  ever  occurred  in  the  history 
of  legislative  bodies;  or  if  any  speech  or  stroke  of  daring 
leadership  ever  produced  such  an  effect.  A  yell  went  up 
from  the  entire  House — Democrats  and  Republicans  joining 
in  it.  There  was  a  wild  burst  and  bolt,  of  perhaps  half  the 
delegates,  out  of  the  chamber,  and  then  a  rush  of  the  rest 
for  Vallandigham. 


INTRODUCTORY    SKETCHES  29 

I  remember  that  old  Houston,  of  Alabama,  who  weighed 
about  a  ton,  ran  up,  puffing  like  a  porpoise,  and  threw  his  im- 
mense bulk  into  Vallandigham's  arms,  rolling  him  upon  the 
floor.  Poor  Barksdale  lost  his  wig  in  the  scrimmage.  In 
a  twinkling  the  hero  of  the  moment  was  lifted  high  upon 
the  shoulders  of  his  party  friends,  who  marched  triumph- 
antly all  over  the  House,  bearing  him  aloft  and  almost  wav- 
ing him  like  a  banner. 

By  this  flash  of  lightning  out  of  the  heavens,  as  it  were, 
the  Democrats  gained  another  day,  though  they  did  not 
win  the  fight.* 

I  cannot  forbear  another  anecdote  of  this  remarkable 
man;  for  while  not  an  eye  and  ear  witness  to  it  as  to  that 
just  related,  the  utterance  attributed  to  him  bears  so  un- 
mistakably the  impress  of  his  vigorous,  incisive  intellect 
and  his  power  of  crushing  sarcasm,  that  I  am  almost  willing 
to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  recital. 

As  the  story  goes,  some  time  during  the  first  half  of  the 
war  Mr.  Thaddeus  Stevens,  or  some  other  equally  single- 
hearted  patriot,  alarmed  at  the  rapid  depreciation  of  the  cur- 
rency, offered  in  the  House  a  measure  providing  in  sub- 
stance that  gold  should  not  be  sold  at  a  premium ;  when  from 


*It  is  proper  to  say  that  the  Congressional  Globe  makes  no  mention 
of  this  remarkable  episode — that  is,  of  the  startling  culmination  of  it — 
though  the  facts  and  circumstances  leading  up  to  this  culmination  are 
there  set  out  substantially  as  above  related.  The  proceedings  of  the 
House,  as  recorded  in  the  Globe  at  and  about  the  date,  are  orderly  and 
consecutive  and  the  adjournments  regular.  The  record,  however,  does 
show  an  adjournment  over  a  day,  and  it  may  be  well  that  the  unparal- 
leled occurrence  above  described  took  place  upon  that  day.  Those 
familiar  with  Congressional  proceedings  are  aware  of  the  usage  or  rule 
preventing  any  trace  upon  the  record  of  an  irregular  or  illegal  session 
or  adjournment  of  the  House ;  e.  g.  the  House  has  occasionally  met  for 
business  on  Sunday  and  even  remained  in  session  all  that  day,  but  the 
entire  Sunday  session — with  everything  transacted  thereat — is  entered 
as  of  the  preceding  day.  Therefore,  while  not  assured  precisely  how  the 
thing  was  done  in  this  instance,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  irregular,  ille- 
gal and  abortive  proceedings  above  described  took  place  upon  the  day 
covered  by  the  adjournment,  and  that  the  entry  of  the  adjournment  over 
that  day  was  an  after-thought. 


30  FOUR   YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

the  back  benches,  where  the  little  Democratic  contingent  was 
then  wont  to  abide,  Vallandigham  arose  and  drawled  out : 
"Mr.  Speaker !  I  move  you,  sir,  the  following  amendment 
to  the  bill :  'Provided  that,  during  the  pendency  of  this  act, 
the  laws  of  nature  and  of  finance  and  of  common  sense  be, 
and  they  are,  hereby  suspended,'  " 

I  do  not  know  whether  any  biography  of  Vallandigham 
has  been  published,  but  one  should  be.  We  realize,  of 
course,  that  his  attitude,  actions,  and  utterances  during  the 
war  must  have  been  as  offensive  and  irritating  to  the  bulk 
of  the  people  of  the  Northern  States  as  they  were  refresh- 
ing and  delightful  to  us  of  the  South;  but  we  believe  the 
time  has  come  when  men  of  all  parties  would  be  able  to  ap- 
preciate his  tremendous  vitality,  his  unconquerable  cour- 
age, his  unquenchable  brilliance. 

And,  by  the  way,  his  death,  as  the  circumstances  were 
narrated  at  the  time  in  the  public  press,  was  even  more  mar- 
velous and  startling  than  any  incident  of  his  checkered 
life.  As  I  recall  the  facts,  some  years  after  the  close  of  the 
war  he  was  senior  counsel  for  the  defense  in  a  murder  trial 
which  excited  great  popular  interest.  There  had  been  a 
collision  between  the  supposed  murderer  and  his  victim,  at 
the  close  of  which  the  latter  had  fallen  mortally  wounded 
by  a  pistol  shot. 

Vallandigham's  theory  was  that  he  had  been  killed  by  the 
accidental  discharge  of  his  own  weapon,  and  during  an  in- 
termission in  the  trial,  taking  up  a  pistol,  he  proceeded  to 
illustrate  to  his  associate  counsel  just  how  the  thing  might 
have  occurred,  when,  shocking  to  relate,  it  did  so  occur 
again — the  pistol  was  accidentally  discharged  into  his  own 
person  and  Vallandigham  fell  dead. 

At  the  close  of  the  prolonged  fight  over  the  Speakership 
I  left  Washington  and  ran  down  to  Richmond,  with  a  view 
of  "spying  out  the  land"  as  a  place  in  which  to  try  my  for- 
tune when  I  should  have  acquired  my  profession.  My  father 
had  been  pastor  of  a  church  in  that  city  for  four  years  during 
my  childhood,  and  had  been  much  beloved  by  his  people,  who 
received  me  with  more  than  old  Virginia  hospitality.  I 
was  charmed  with  everything  I  saw  and  every  one  I  met, 


INTRODUCTORY    SKETCHES  3 1 

except  that  I  was  shocked  and  saddened  by  meeting  every- 
where young  men  of  my  own  age  in  military  uniform.  They 
had  not  long  since  returned  from  the  camp  at  Charlestown 
and  the  execution  of  John  Brown,  and  it  chilled  me  to  see 
that  they  regarded  themselves,  as  they  proved  indeed  to  be, 
the  advance  guard  of  the  great  army  which  would  soon  be 
embattled  in  defence  of  the  South.  I  loved  the  Union  pas- 
sionately, and  while  I  had  seen  a  great  deal  at  Washington 
that  made  me  tremble  for  it,  yet  I  had  not  there  seen  men 
armed  and  uniformed  as  actual  soldiers  in  the  war  of  dis- 
union. 

It  was  not  a  little  singular  that  most  of  these  young  men 
— that  is  to  say,  those  whom  for  the  most  part  I  met  in  a 
social  way — belonged  to  the  Richmond  Howitzers,  the  very 
corps  which,  without  choice  on  my  part,  I  joined  in  1861, 
and  with  which  I  served  during  the  greater  part  of  the  war. 

State  conventions,  both  of  the  Whig  and  Democratic 
parties,  sat  in  Richmond  during  my  visit  and  discussed,  of 
course,  mainly  the  one  absorbing  issue.  I  was  an  eager 
observer  of  the  proceedings  and  much  impressed  with  the 
high  average  of  intelligence  and  speaking  power  in  both 
bodies.  This  seemed  especially  true  of  the  Whig  Conven- 
tion— perhaps  because  I  was  so  much  in  sympathy  with  that 
party  in  deprecating  the  disruption  of  the  Union.  I  con- 
fess, however,  the  question  has  since  been  often  pressed 
home  upon  me  whether,  after  all,  the  Democrats  of  Vir- 
ginia did  not,  in  this  great  crisis,  exhibit  a  higher  degree  of 
prescient  statesmanship. 

Among  the  Whig  leaders  I  distinctly  recall  William  Bal- 
lard Preston,  A.  H.  H.  Stuart,  Thomas  Stanhope  Flournoy, 
and  John  Minor  Botts.  I  do  not  remember  whether  John 
B.  Baldwin  was  a  member  of  this  convention  of  i860.  Tf 
so,  I  did  not  happen  to  hear  him  speak.  Mr.  Preston,  Mr. 
Stuart,  and  Mr.  Flournoy,  as  well  as  Mr.  Baldwin,  were, 
later,  members  of  the  Secession  Convention  of  Virginia,  but 
all  were  Union  men  up  to  President  Lincoln's  call  for  troops. 
Mr.  Preston  and  Mr.  Stuart  were  not  only  finished  orators, 
but  statesmen  of  ability  and  experience.  Both  had  graced 
the  Legislature  of  their  State  and  the  Congress  of  the  United 


32  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

States,  and  both  had  been  members  of  the  Federal  Cabinet 
— Mr.  Preston  during  General  Taylor's  and  Mr.  Stuart  dur- 
ing Mr.  Fillmore's  administration.  Mr.  Preston  was  after- 
wards a  member  of  the  Confederate  Senate  and  Mr.  Stuart 
one  of  the  commissioners  appointed  by  Virginia  to  confer 
with  Mr.  Lincoln  as  to  his  attitude  and  action  toward  the 
seceded  States. 

Mr.  Botts  made  a  very  powerful  address  before  the  con- 
vention, but  the  spirit  of  it  did  not  please  me.  He  belittled  the 
John  Brown  raid,  at  the  same  time  accusing  Governor  Wise 
of  having  done  everything  in  his  power  to  magnify  it.  He 
ridiculed  the  Governor's  military  establishment  and  his  "men 
in  buckram,"  while  dubbing  him  "The  un-epauletted  hero  of 
the  Ossawattomie  war."  He  said  that  old  John  Brown 
certainly  did  a  good  deal  against  the  peace  and  prosperity 
of  the  commonwealth  and  the  country,  but  added,  "What- 
ever he  left  undone  in  this  direction  has  been  most  effectu- 
ally carried  out  by  his  executor,  the  late  Governor  of  Vir- 
ginia." 


CHAPTER  III 

FROM   NEW  YORK  TO  RICHMOND 

Quieting  Down  to  the  Study  of  Law  in  New  York — Progress  of  the 
Revolution — Virginia's  Attempted  Mediation — Firing  on  Sumter — 
Back  to  New  Haven — A  Remarkable  Man  and  a  Strange,  Sad  Story 
— Off  for  Dixie — In  Richmond  Again. 

At  the  close  of  this,  my  first  visit  South,  I  turned  North- 
ward, filled  with  admiration  and  affection  for  the  Southern 
people  and  feeling  that  I  had  found  my  future  home.  Not- 
withstanding the  dark  shadow  that  impended,  I  little  fan- 
cied that  I  would  so  soon  again  see  the  fair  city  of  my 
choice  and  under  circumstances  changed  so  sadly.  I  was 
young,  and  as  I  turned  my  back  upon  Virginia  and  the 
John  Brown  raid,  which  were  then  the  points  of  greatest 
tension,  my  strained  nerves  relaxed,  and  what  I  had  seen  and 
heard  of  evil  portent  faded  away  like  a  disturbing  dream 
when  one  awakes. 

I  found  my  dear  ones  well  and  the  practical  New  Eng- 
enders, at  least  most  of  them,  deeply  immersed  in  business 
and  finance.  Like  many  wiser  men,  I  felt  reassured  by  the 
comforting  conviction  that  the  material  interests  of  this 
rapidly  developing  country  were  too  vast,  too  solid  and 
priceless  to  be  shattered  and  sacrificed  in  these  superficial 
popular  excitements. 

In  the  quiet  of  the  family  circle  we  discussed  my  plans 
and  determined  that  I  should  enter  the  Law  School  of 
Columbia  College  in  the  approaching  fall.  I  do  not  re- 
member where  I  went  or  what  I  did  during  the  summer 
vacation,  but  in  the  early  autumn  I  came  back  thoroughly 
quieted,  rested  and  refreshed,  went  promptly  to  New  York 
City  and  entered  with  enthusiasm  upon  the  study  of  my 
chosen  profession  under  that  admirable  teacher,  Professor 
Theodore  W.  Dwight,  of  Columbia. 


34  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

For  a  time  all  went  well.  True,  the  ground  swell  of  a 
mighty  revolution  was  gradually  rising  at  the  South,  but 
no  one  about  me  believed  it  would  ever  break  in  the  angry 
waves  of  actual  war,  and  I  was  not  wiser  than  my  fellows. 
Indeed  I  purposely  turned  my  thoughts  away,  which  for 
the  time  was  not  difficult  to  do,  enamored  as  I  was  of  the 
law. 

Three  or  four  of  us,  Yale  graduates  and  classmates,  were 
in  the  same  boarding-house  on  Washington  Square.  Ed. 
Carrington,  a  youth  of  uncommon  power  and  promise,  who 
lost  his  life  during  the  war  in  an  obscure  skirmish  in  Flor- 
ida, like  myself,  was  studying  law,  but  he  roomed  with  Joe 
Twichell,  who  was  then  studying  theology;  dear  Joe,  who 
preached  the  bi-centennial  sermon  at  Yale,  and  is  to-day,  as 
he  has  always  been,  the  most  admired  and  best  beloved  man 
of  the  class  of  '59.  My  room-mate  was  Tom  Lounsbury, 
then  employed  in  literary  work  on  one  of  the  great  encyclo- 
pedias, to-day  the  distinguished  incumbent  of  the  Chair  of 
English  in  Yale  University. 

But  this  peace  was  not  to  last  long.  The  election  of  Lin- 
coln, the  rapid  secession  of  the  Southern  States,  the  forma- 
tion of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  the  inauguration  of  the 
Presidents,  first  of  the  new  and  then  of  the  old  federation; 
the  adoption  by  the  Southern  States  of  a  different  and  a 
permanent  Constitution — all  this  tended  strongly  to  con- 
vince thoughtful  men  that  the  two  sections,  or  the  two 
countries,  were  deeply  in  earnest  and  differed  radically  and 
irreconciliably  as  to  the  construction  of  the  United  States 
Constitution.  Then  came  the  strained  situation  in  Charles- 
ton harbor,  and  the  futile  efforts  of  the  Peace  Congress 
called  by  Virginia,  and  later,  of  her  commissioners  and  those 
appointed  by  the  Confederate  Government  to  wait  upon 
President  Lincoln. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that,  though  striving  hard  to 
maintain  my  hold  upon  the  law,  I  was  yet  far  from  an  in- 
different spectator  of  this  majestic  march  of  events.  I 
went  repeatedly  to  talk  with  two  or  three  of  the  leading 
business  men  of  New  York,  who  had  been  friends  and 
parishioners  of  my  father  while  pastor  of  a  church  in  that 


FROM   NEW  YORK  TO  RICHMOND  35 

city,  and  was  delighted  to  find  them  hopeful;  relying  not 
only  upon  the  weight  and  influence  of  material  and  business 
interests  to  avert  actual  war,  but  also,  and  especially,  upon 
the  noble  intervention  and  mediation  of  Virginia. 

It  made  my  heart  glow  to  hear  how  these  great  financiers 
and  merchant  princes  spoke  of  my  adopted  State.  They 
said  in  effect,  that  it  had  always  been  so ;  that  Virginia  was 
undoubtedly  the  greatest  and  most  influential  of  all  the 
States;  that  she  had  been  the  nursing  mother  of  the  Union 
and  of  the  country  and  would  prove  their  preserver;  that 
Virginians  had  really  made  the  United  States  in  the  olden 
days, — Washington,  Jefferson,  Madison,  Marshall, — and 
Virginians  would  save  the  United  States  to-day.  They  de- 
clared that  they  had  always  worshiped  the  Old  Dominion, 
and  now,  more  than  ever,  for  the  noble  position  she  had  as- 
sumed in  this  crisis. 

How  could  I  help  glowing  with  pride  and  brightening 
with  hope !  Alas !  the  shriek  of  the  first  shell  that  burst  over 
Sumter  shattered  these  fair  hopes — and  pandemonium 
reigned  in  New  York. 

It  is  not  within  the  province  of  this  book  to  discuss  the 
responsibility  for  that  shell.  I  will,  however,  be  candid 
enough  to  say  that  I  never  entertained  a  doubt  as  to  the 
South  having  the  best  of  the  Constitutional  argument;  and 
yet,  so  strong  was  my  love  for  the  Union  and  my  affec- 
tion for  my  friends,  at  least  nine-tenths  of  whom  were  on 
the  Northern  side,  that  I  often  felt,  and  more  than  once 
said,  I  could  never  strike  a  blow  or  fire  a  shot  in  the  con- 
flict, if  it  should  come.  Nevertheless,  I  was  inexorably  led  in 
the  sequel  to  give  myself  unreservedly  and  whole-heartedly 
to  the  defense  of  the  South. 

One  link  in  the  chain  that  led  to  this  decision  was  the 
conviction  that  forced  itself  upon  me  that  I  could  not  re- 
main in  New  York.  After  the  firing  upon  Sumter  the  whole 
city  was  in  an  uproar.  A  wild  enthusiasm  for  "the  flag" 
seized  and  swept  the  entire  population  which  surged  through 
streets  hung  with  banners  and  bunting,  their  own  persons 
bedecked  with  small  United  States  flags  and  other  patriotic 
devices.     It  is  not  worth  while  to  go  further  into  these  de- 


3^  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

tails.  Enough  to  say  that  it  was  manifestly  as  uncomfort- 
able and  impracticable,  at  that  time,  for  me  to  remain  in 
New  York  as  for  an  able-bodied  young  man,  of  strong  con- 
victions on  the  Northern  side  of  the  controversy,  to  remain 
in  Richmond. 

Therefore  I  returned  to  New  Haven,  where,  with  the  en- 
tire family  assembled,  we  conferred  over  the  situation  and 
decided  that  father  and  his  three  boys  must  go  South  as  soon 
as  possible,  leaving  mother  and  the  girls  to  follow  when  the 
way  should  be  clear  and  we  ready  to  receive  them.  As  there 
was  no  assurance  of  reaching  our  destination  in  safety  with- 
out passports,  father,  who  knew  General  Scott  well,  applied 
to  him  for  passes  South  for  himself  and  his  three  boys.  The 
General  replied,  sending  my  father  a  pass,  but  refusing  to 
furnish  passports  for  his  sons,  and  it  then  became  necessary 
for  us  boys  to  devise  some  route,  other  than  the  railroads, 
for  reaching  our  Southern  friends. 

My  next  younger  brother  was  an  expert  sailor,  having 
followed  the  sea  for  years,  and  was  recognized  as  perhaps 
the  most  daring  and  skilful  manager  of  a  small  sailing 
craft  to  be  found  about  New  Haven  harbor,  or  indeed  any- 
where in  that  part  of  Long  Island  Sound.  As  there  seemed 
to  be  no  other  way  to  Virginia  open  to  us,  we  bought  a 
staunch,  swift  sail-boat,  had  her  carefully  caulked  and  over- 
hauled, and  set  to  work  to  make  her  some  extra  sails  which 
my  brother  thought  we  might  need  during  our  voyage.  We 
procured  a  copy  of  a  detailed  survey  of  the  coast  along  that 
part  of  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Virginia  where  we  proposed  to 
land,  and  also  letters  to  gentlemen  living  along  that  coast. 
The  preparation  of  the  boat  and  the  working  up  of  our  ex- 
pedition was  a  great  relief,  not  only  in  giving  us  something 
to  do,  but  also  in  holding  out  the  prospect  of  interesting  ad- 
venture accompanied  by  a  reasonable  spice  of  peril. 

About  this  time  I  discovered,  in  taking  a  sort  of  spiritual 
inventory  of  myself,  that  I  had  passed  to  another  and  dis- 
tinct stage  of  feeling  and  of  purpose.  I  believed  firmly  my 
people  in  the  South  were  right ;  I  knew  well  they  were  weak ; 
I  saw  clearly  they  were  about  to  be  invaded ;  and  I  was  striv- 
ing to  get  to  them.    To  what  end?  With  what  purpose ?  To 


FROM   NEW   YORK  TO   RICHMOND  37 

give  them  another  mouth  to  feed,  or  to  give  them  another 
man  to  fight  ?  Right,  weakness,  invasion ! — how  could  there 
be  any  save  one  inference  from  such  a  trinity  of  proposi- 
tions ?  I  did  not  fully  realize  this  process  as  it  was  wrought 
out  in  me;  but  when  I  came  to  find  my  scruples  and  my 
shrinking  gone — though  not  my  sorrow — I  looked  back  and 
plainly  saw  the  path  along  which  I  had  been  led.  From  that 
hour,  throughout  the  four  years  of  my  service  as  a  Confeder- 
ate soldier,  never  did  I  entertain  a  doubt  as  to  my  being 
where  I  should  be  and  doing  what  I  should  do. 

While  our  boat  was  making  ready  for  the  trip,  some  one 
called  at  the  house  and  asked  for  me,  but  sent  no  card,  so  I 
went  to  the  reception-room,  having  no  idea  who  my  visitor 
was. 

"Why,  Beers!"  I  cried,  "what  are  you  doing  here?"  He 
was  very  pale,  and  had  evidently  been  subjected  to  severe 
mental  and  moral  tension — nevertheless,  Yankee-like,  he  an- 
swered my  question  by  asking  another,  "What  are  you  going 
to  do?"  "O,"  said  I,  "we  are  going  South  by  sail-boat; 
General  Scott  won't  let  us  go  by  railroad."  Instantly  he  re- 
plied, "I  am  going  with  you." 

Who  was  the  man  who  thus,  without  hesitation,  reserva- 
tion or  condition,  cast  in  his  lot  with  us  ? 

The  story  is  in  every  way  so  remarkable  that  I  cannot 
forbear  a  full  recital  of  it.  It  should  not  be  forgotten, 
however,  that  while  the  peace  of  death  has,  years  agone, 
passed  upon  the  chief  actor  in  this  strange,  sad  drama,  and 
probably  also  upon  most  of  his  relatives  living  when  he  died 
— there  may  yet  be  others  now  living  to  whom  the  record  of 
his  life  and  death  must  needs  be  somewhat  painful;  there- 
fore I  shall  endeavor  to  tell  the  story  simply  and  quietly. 

When  I  first  knew  James  H.  Beers  he  was  an  intelligent 
young  mechanic — originally,  I  think,  from  Bridgeport, 
Conn.,  but  at  the  time  living  in  New  Haven,  where  I  was  a 
college  student.  We  were  both  members  of  a  Bible-class 
connected  with  a  church  of  which  my  father  was  then  pas- 
tor, and  Mr.  Gerard  Hallock,  of  the  New  York  Journal  of 
Commerce,  the  most  prominent  member. 


38  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

Soon  after  my  first  acquaintance  with  Beers,  Mr.  Hallock 
became  interested  in  him,  attracted  by  his  regular  attend- 
ance at  church  and  Bible-class,  and  his  modest  yet  self-re- 
spectful and  intelligent  bearing,  and  he  took  him  to  New 
York  in  some  subordinate  capacity  connected  with  his  paper. 
This  was  a  few  years  before  the  war,  but  Beers  continued  to 
visit  New  Haven  often,  perhaps  regularly.  We  heard  from 
time  to  time  that  he  had  exhibited  unusual  facility  for  jour- 
nalism and  had  been  rapidly  advanced,  until  he  had  come  to 
be  an  assistant  to  the  night  editor  of  Mr.  Hallock's  great 
paper.  It  was  probably  through  his  connection  with  the 
leading  Democratic  daily  that  he  imbibed  the  views  he  held 
as  to  the  construction  of  the  Federal  Constitution  and  the 
relations  between  the  Federal  Government  and  the  States; 
views  which  he  followed  to  their  logical  conclusion  and  in 
defense  of  which  he  ultimately  laid  down  his  life. 

As  the  sectional  excitement  increased  and  civil  war  be- 
came more  and  more  imminent,  Beers  grew  more  and  more 
restless  and  unhappy,  until  actual  hostilities  began  with 
the  bombardment  of  Sumter,  when  he  informed  Mr.  Hallock 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  continue  to  discharge 
his  duties  upon  the  paper.  Thereupon  he  left  New  York  and 
appeared  in  New  Haven,  as  above  described. 

When  he  announced  his  determination  of  going  with  us 
I  discouraged  it,  reminding  him  that  he  was  a  Northern 
man  and  had,  besides,  a  wife  and  two  little  girls  to  provide 
for;  mentioning  also  his  fine  position  and  prospects,  all  of 
which  would  necessarily  be  sacrificed.  He  replied  that  he 
had  some  money  which  he  would  leave  with  our  mother, 
trusting  her  to  use  it  for  his  wife  and  children  and  to  bring 
them  South  when  she  came;  adding  that  God  never  gave  a 
man  a  wife  and  children  to  stand  in  the  way  of  the  discharge 
of  his  plain  duty,  and  that  it  was  plainly  his  duty  to  go  with 
us  and  aid  the  South  in  defense  of  her  clear  and  clearly-vio- 
lated rights. 

I  cut  the  matter  short  by  referring  him  to  my  father,  and 
he  at  once  went  to  his  room  and  saw  him.  Father  after- 
wards told  me  it  was  obvious  that  Mr.  Beers'  mind  was  irre- 
vocably made  up  and  that  it  would  be  worse  than  useless  to 


FROM   NEW  YORK  TO  RICHMOND  39 

resist  him  further;  so  it  was  settled  he  was  to  go  with  us. 
I  do  not  remember  whether  his  wife  and  children  were  then 
in  New  Haven,  but  they  were  committed  by  him  to  the 
care  of  our  mother  and  sisters,  and  later  followed  Beers  to 
Virginia,  as  I  now  recollect,  in  company  with  the  ladies  of 
our  family. 

Everything  was  arranged  and  we  were  to  embark  and 
sail  on  a  certain  night,  but  during  the  preceding  day  a  tele- 
gram was  received  from  a  friend  who  was  standing  guard 
for  us  in  Washington,  which  by  a  sort  of  prearranged  cipher 
we  understood  to  mean  that  we  could  slip_  through  safely  if 
we  left  New  York  by  a  certain  train  the  next  day.  My  recol- 
lection is  that  it  was  deemed  best  to  divide  the  party — Beers, 
my  next  younger  brother,  and  I  getting  off  so  as  to  catch 
the  train  indicated;  father  and  my  youngest  brother,  then 
below  fighting  age,  following  later. 

We  reached  Washington  and  got  safely  across  the  river 
and  to  our  destination,  but,  by  some  untoward  accident,  Beers 
was  left  behind  and  experienced  some  difficulty  in  dodging 
the  provost  guard  and  completing  the  last  stage  of  his  "on  to 
Richmond."  We  were  very  uneasy,  met  every  train  from 
the  North,  and  were  unspeakably  relieved  when  he  arrived. 
We  had  told  his  story  to  our  friends  and  he  was  welcomed 
into  the  same  hospitable  family  circle  which  was  entertain- 
ing us.  The  city  was  crowded  with  people,  but  the  sons  of 
Virginia  were  flocking  home  to  her  defense  and  every  heart 
and  every  door  was  open  to  receive  them. 

A  day  or  two  after  his  arrival  a  most  unpleasant  expe- 
rience befell  poor  Beers.  Walking  by  himself  in  the  street, 
he  was  arrested  as  a  spy  and  locked  up  in  the  negro  jail. 
For  hours  we  were  unable  to  ascertain  what  had  become  of 
him,  and  when  we  did  find  out  it  was  too  late  to  procure  his 
release  on  habeas  corpus;  so  with  profound  mortification  and 
profuse  apologies  we  had  to  content  ourselves  with  doing 
what  we  could  to  make  him  comfortable  where  he  was,  he 
protesting  that  he  needed  nothing  and  could  suffer  no  real 
inconvenience  that  one  night.  Indeed,  noble  fellow  that  he 
was,  he  met  me  with  a  manly  smile  at  the  door  of  his  cell, 
expressing  mingled  amusement  and  approbation ;  saying  that 


40  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

while  the  charge  of  his  being  a  spy  was  a  little  wide  of  the 
mark,  yet  the  mistake  was  a  very  natural  one,  that  there 
were  doubtless  numbers  of  such  characters  about,  and  he 
was  glad  to  see  that  we  were  on  the  alert  for  them. 

Next  morning  when  his  case  was  called  in  the  Mayor's 
Court  something  of  the  truth  with  regard  to  him  had  gotten 
abroad  and  the  court-room  was  crowded  with  the  first  gen- 
tlemen of  Richmond.  I  was  the  main  witness,  and  it  goes 
without  saying  that  the  dramatic  points  of  Beers'  strange 
story,  especially  those  that  would  most  commend  him  to  the 
Southern  people,  lost  nothing  in  the  telling.  He  was  not 
only  honorably  discharged,  but  he  was  vociferously  cheered 
by  the  entire  audience,  and  he  walked  out  of  the  «ourt-room 
the  idol  of  the  hour — the  rest  of  the  last  rebel  reinforcement 
from  the  North  shining  somewhat  in  his  reflected  light. 
Thus,  to  our  great  relief,  the  awkward  contretemps  of  his 
arrest  contributed  rather  to  the  reputation  and  advantage  of 
our  friend. 

I  recall  this  additional  incident:  Mr.  John  Randolph 
Tucker — "Ran.  Tucker" — then  Attorney-General  of  Vir- 
ginia, was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  father,  who  had  now 
arrived  in  Richmond,  and  suggested  to  him  that  Mr.  Beers 
and  I,  as  we  were  citizens  of  the  State  of  Connecticut  where 
I  had  recently  cast  my  first  vote,  were  in  rather  an  excep- 
tional position,  as  bearing  upon  a  possible  charge  of  treason, 
in  case  we  should  enlist  in  the  military  service.  The  sug- 
gestion was  deemed  of  sufficient  importance  to  refer  to  Mr. 
Benjamin,  then  Attorney-General  of  the  Confederate  States, 
and  Mr.  Tucker  and  I  interviewed  him  about  it.  These  two 
great  lawyers  concurred  in  the  view  that  the  principles  which 
protected  citizens  of  the  Southern  and  seceded  States  were, 
to  say  the  least,  of  doubtful  application  to  us,  and  that  it 
would  probably  go  rather  hard  with  us  if  we  should  be  cap- 
tured. Notwithstanding,  I  enlisted,  and  Beers  would  proba- 
bly have  done  so  with  equal  promptness  had  he  not  been  an 
expert  mechanic — men  so  qualified  being  then  very  scarce  in 
Richmond  and  very  much  needed.  He  was  asked  to  assist  in 
changing  some  old  flintlocks  belonging  to  the  State  of  Vir- 
ginia into  percussion  muskets,  and  all  of  us  insisting  that  he 


FROM   NEW  YORK  TO  RICHMOND  41 

could  thus  render  far  more  valuable  service  than  by  enlisting 
in  the  ranks,  he  reluctantly  yielded  and  went  to  work. 

How  long  he  was  thus  employed  I  do  not  know.  My 
youngest  brother  went  on  to  our  relatives  in  Georgia,  but 
soon  after  his  arrival  there  insisted  upon  enlisting  in  one  of 
the  battalions  for  coast  defense.  My  sailor  brother  and  I  en- 
listed in  Richmond  and  joined  the  army  at  Manassas.  I  saw 
but  little  of  Beers  after  this.  Just  when  he  entered  the  army 
I  cannot  say,  but  it  must  have  been  some  time  before  the 
battles  around  Richmond  in  the  early  summer  of  1862;  for 
011  the  battle  field  of  Malvern  Hill  I  met  some  of  the  men  of 
the  "Letcher  Artillery,"  to  which  he  belonged,  who  told  me 
that  my  "Yankee"  was  the  finest  gunner  in  the  battery  and 
fought  like  a  Turk.  Between  Malvern  Hill  and  Chancellors- 
ville  I  saw  Beers  perhaps  two  or  three  times — I  think  once 
in  Richmond,  after  his  wife  and  children  and  my  mother 
and  sisters  arrived  from  the  North. 

I  have  seldom  seen  a  better-looking  soldier.  He  was 
about  five  feet  eleven  inches  in  height,  had  fine  shoulders, 
chest  and  limbs,  carried  his  head  high,  had  clustering  brown 
hair,  a  steel-gray  eye  and  a  splendid  sweeping  moustache. 
Every  now  and  then  I  heard  from  some  man  or  officer  of 
his  battery,  or  of  Pegram's  Battalion,  some  special  praise  of 
his  gallantry  in  action,  but  as  he  was  in  A.  P.  Hill's  com- 
mand and  I  then  in  Longstreet's,  we  seldom  met.  I  am  con- 
fident there  is  no  battle-scarred  veteran  of  Pegram's  Battal- 
ion living  to-day  but  stands  ready  to  vouch  for  Beers  as  the 
equal  of  any  soldier  in  the  command,  and  some  of  them  ten- 
derly recall  him  as  a  good  and  true  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ 
as  well  as  of  Robert  Lee.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  holding- 
religious  services  with  the  men  of  his  battalion  on  every 
fitting  occasion — services  which  they  highly  appreciated. 

Just  after  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville  I  was  in  Rich- 
mond, having  recently  received  an  appointment  in  "engineer 
troops."  I  am  unable  to  recall  the  details,  but  I  was  notified 
to  meet  poor  Beers'  body  at  the  train.  Colonel,  afterwards 
General,  R.  L.  Walker  (Lindsay  Walker),  commanding  A. 
P.  Hill's  artillery,  hearing  that  Beers  had  been  killed  on  the 
3d  of  May  and  buried  upon  the  field,  had  the  body  exhumed 
and  sent  to  me  at  Richmond. 


42  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER    MARSE   ROBERT 

It  is  strange  how  everything  connected  with  the  burial,  ex- 
cept the  sad  scene  at  the  grave,  seems  to  have  faded  out  of 
my  recollection.  I  know  he  was  buried  in  our  family  lot  in 
Hollywood,  and  as  no  one  of  us  was  buried  there  for  long 
years  after  this,  we  must  have  bought  the  lot  for  the  pur- 
pose. I  remember,  too,  that  we  laid  him  to  rest  with  mili- 
tary honors,  Captain  Gay's  company,  the  "Virginia  State 
Guard,"  acting  as  escort;  and  I  must  have  ridden  in  the  car- 
riage with  the  stricken  widow  and  his  two  little  girls,  for 
I  distinctly  recall  standing  between  the  children  at  the  side 
of  the  open  grave  and  holding  a  hand  of  each  as  the  body  of 
their  hero-father  was  lowered  to  its  last  resting  place.  I 
remember,  too,  that  not  a  muscle  of  their  pale,  sweet  faces 
quivered  as  the  three  volleys  were  fired  over  the  low  mound 
that  covered  him.    They  were  the  daughters  of  a  soldier. 

There  stands  to-day  over  the  grave  a  simple  granite 
marker  bearing  this  inscription : 

JAMES  H.  BEERS, 

of  Connecticut, 

Who  Fell  at  Chancellorsville, 

Fighting  for  Virginia  and  the  South, 

May  3,  1863. 

My  story  is  done,  and  I  feel  that  it  is  worthy  of  recital 
and  remembrance.  Indeed  it  embodies  the  most  impressive 
instance  I  have  ever  known  of  trenchant,  independent 
thought  and  uncalculating,  unflinching  obedience  to  the  re- 
sulting conviction  of  duty — "obedience  unto  death." 

Observe,  Beers  had  never  been  South  and  had  no  idea  of 
ever  going  there  until  the  Southern  States  were  invaded. 
Observe  again,  he  was  not  a  man  without  ties,  a  homeless 
and  heartless  adventurer ;  but  a  complete  man — a  man  bless- 
ed with  wife  and  children  and  home,  and  withal  a  faithful 
and  affectionate  husband  and  father.  Observe  once  more, 
he  was  not  an  unsuccessful  or  disappointed  man.  On  the 
contrary,  I  have  seldom  known  a  man  who  had  a  position 
more  perfectly  congenial  and  satisfactory  to  him  or  whose 
prospects  were  brighter  or  more  assured.  It  was  simply  and 
purely  his  conviction  of  right  and  of  duty  which  led  him  to 
us  and  to  his  brave  death. 


FROM    NEW   YORK  TO   RICHMOND  43 

One  feature  of  the  poor  fellow's  story,  of  intense  color, 
has  been  purposely  omitted.  I  refer  to  his  parting  with  his 
parents.  It  is  my  strong  desire  that  this  sketch  shall  not 
contain  one  word  calculated  to  bring  unnecessary  pain  to  the 
heart  of  any  relative  of  my  dear  friend  under  whose  eye  it 
may  chance  to  fall.  If  being  a  Southerner  you  would  pass 
just  and  charitable  judgment  upon  his  family,  try  for  a  mo- 
ment to  conceive  what  would  have  been  the  feelings  of  a 
Southern  father  and  mother  and  family  circle  toward  a  son 
and  brother  who,  in  1861,  had  proposed  to  go  North  for 
the  purpose  of  fighting  against  his  people  and  his  State. 

My  recollection  is  that  Mrs.  Beers  did  not  long  survive 
her  husband.  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  say  that,  so  far  as  I 
know,  the  family  of  Mr.  Beers  did  their  duty  by  his  children. 
I  tried  to  have  the  little  girls  adopted  in  the  South,  and 
came  very  near  succeeding,  yet  perhaps  it  was,  after  all,  well 
that  their  friends  sent  for  them  and  that  they  finally  returned 
to  the  North. 

It  is  well,  too,  that  there  are  not  more  men  like  Beers  in 
the  world.  The  bands  of  organized  society  are  not  strong 
enough  to  endure  many  such.  They  are  too  trenchant,  too 
independent,  to  be  normal  or  safe.  It  is  well  that  most  of  us 
believe  and  think  and  feel  and  act  with  the  mass  of  our  fel- 
low-beings about  us.  If  it  were  not  so,  quiet  and  harmo- 
nious society  would  be  impossible ;  it  would  dissolve  and  per- 
ish in  fierce  internecine  strife.  And  yet,  when  every  now 
and  then  God  turns  out  a  man  of  different  mould,  a  man 
brave  enough  and  strong  enough  not  to  be  dominated  in 
opinion,  in  conscience,  or  in  action  by  his  associates — we 
ordinary  men,  of  average  human  stature  and  strength,  real- 
ize how  almost  pitifully  small  and  weak  we  are. 

The  mound  that  covers  James  H.  Beers  is  indeed  low  and 
humble,  yet  where  will  you  dig  in  earth's  surface  to  find 
richer  dust?  I  rejoice  that  he  lies  where  he  does,  hard  by 
my  dear  ones  and  where  my  own  body  will  soon  rest,  so  that 
when  the  resurrection  trump  shall  call  us  all  forth,  after 
running  over  the  roll  of  my  beloved  and  finding  them  "all 
present  or  accounted  for,"  I  can  turn  my  eyes  to  the  right 
and  greet  the  hero  whose  sacred  dust  I  have  guarded  all 
these  years. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FROM   CIVIL  TO  MILITARY  LIFE 

Off  for  Manassas — First  Glimpse  of  an  Army  and  a  Battle-field — The 
Richmond  Howitzers — Intellectual  Atmosphere  of  the  Camp — Es- 
sential Spirit  of  the  Southern  Volunteer. 

The  exact  dates  of  the  personal  movements  and  expe- 
riences thus  far  narrated  cannot  be  determined.  This  is 
largely  due  to  a  habit  of  destroying  family  letters,  and  this 
to  a  weak  dread  of  opening  them,  or  even  of  looking  upon 
them,  after  the  lapse  of  years. 

Up  to  this  point  the  lack  of  such  letters  has  signified 
little.  It  can  make  little  difference  just  when  I  left  New 
York  for  New  Haven,  or  when  we  left  New  Haven  for 
Richmond,  or  Richmond  for  Manassas.  This  book  is  not 
intended  to  be  a  rigid  record  of  the  daily  succession  and  the 
precise  dates  of  camp  and  march  and  battle;  and  yet  there 
is  no  gainsaying  the  almost  inestimable  value  of  letters  to 
a  book  of  reminiscence,  furnishing  contemporaneous  record 
and  comment  so  much  more  vivid  and  accurate  than  mem- 
ory. In  the  absence  of  these  I  shall  have  to  rest  largely,  for 
the  elements  of  time  and  date,  upon  the  relation  of  what  I 
may  record  to  the  general  movement  of  the  campaigns, 
which  will,  for  the  most  part,  prove  sufficient  for  my  pur- 
pose. For  example,  I  know  that  Beers'  funeral  was  just 
after  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  May  3,  1863  ;  that  we  ar- 
rived in  Richmond  a  short  time  before  the  battle  of  Bethel, 
June  10,  1 86 1 ;  that  we  left  Richmond  almost  immediately 
after  the  battle  of  Manassas,  July  21,  1861. 

It  was  not  our  fault  that  we  did  not  leave  earlier.  My 
brother  and  I  had  volunteered  in  an  infantry  company  called 
after  a  favorite  corps  which  had  left  the  city  for  the  front, 
"Junior  Company  F,"  which  was  being  drilled  in  awkward 


FROM    CIVIL  TO    MILITARY    LIFE  45 

squads  in  a  large  basement  room  under  the  Spotswood 
Hotel.  We  felt  that  the  Juniors  were  hanging  fire  too  long. 
The  city  was  crowded  with  troops  from  all  over  Virginia 
and  the  South,  pressing  to  the  front,  and  with  swarms  of 
gaily  dressed  staff  officers  and  military  attaches  and  hang- 
ers-on, and  we  longed  to  be  away,  out  of  this  martial  show, 
and  off  to  the  real  front.  We  grew  daily  more  restless,  es- 
pecially after  the  affair  at  Bethel — sometimes  spoken  of  as 
"Big  Bethel,"  "Great  Bethel,"  or  "Bethel  Church."  The 
main  armies  were  facing  each  other  in  central  Virginia,  and 
as  day  after  day  and  week  after  week  passed,  we  began  to 
feel  that  it  would  be  a  personal  reflection  upon  us  if  another 
fight  should  occur  without  our  being  in  it. 

Suddenly  the  great  battles  of  Manassas  shocked  the  city 
and  shook  the  continent,  and  we  could  stand  it  no  longer.  As 
I  remember,  it  was  but  a  day  or  two  after  the  main  fight  of 
July  21  that  my  brother  and  I  met  two  soldiers  of  the  First 
Company,  Richmond  Howitzers,  who  were  in  the  city  on 
business  for  the  company,  and  were  to  return  next  day.  So 
without  saying  "by  your  leave"  to  any  one,  we  boarded  the 
cars  next  morning  with  these  men.  They  undertook  to 
conceal  us  on  the  train  till  it  started  and  to  secure  our  en- 
rollment in  the  company  when  we  arrived — undertakings 
skilfully  and  faithfully  performed. 

The  ride  to  Manassas  was  certainly  not  a  reassuring  ex- 
perience. The  train  was  crowded  almost  to  suffocation  with 
troops  from  a  far  Southern  State.  They  had  been  long  on 
the  way  and  were  worn  with  travel  in  the  heat  of  summer. 
Some  of  the  men  were  sleepy  and  sprawling,  others  restless 
and  noisy,  and  both  men  and  cars  were  very  dirty.  It  was  a 
tedious  trip,  but  it  ended  at  last,  and  we  were  glad  to  make 
our  escape.  As  we  stepped  from  the  train  we  were  met  by 
two  or  three  more  of  the  Howitzers,  to  one  of  whom  was 
committed  the  duty  of  piloting  us  to  the  camp  of  the  bat- 
tery. 

We  were  very  much  struck  with  our  guide.  Scarcely 
more  than  a  half- formed  country  lad,  he  was  yet  a  fellow  of 
genuine,  transparent  nature,  healthy  and  hearty  and  strong 
in  body  and  mind ;  one  of  the  sturdiest,  manliest  figures  and 


46  FOUR  YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

faces  I  ever  looked  upon.  He  seemed  to  be  exceptionally 
right-minded,  broad-minded,  and  intelligent,  was  evidently- 
glad  to  see  us  and  "to  tell  us  all  about  it" — the  army  and 
the  battle  and  the  service,  as  he  saw  them — and  we  heard 
much  from  him  during  our  brief  walk  of  just  what  we 
wanted  to  know. 

Such  he  was  then.  For  the  next  four  years  he  was  the 
equal  of  any  soldier  in  that  incomparable  army.  To-day, 
thank  God!  he  still  lives,  is  perhaps  the  best  beloved  and 
most  trusted  friend  I  have  on  earth,  one  of  the  best  citizens 
and  farmers  in  Virginia — a  man  whom  everybody  knows 
and  trusts  and  looks  up  to  and  leans  upon. 

At  last  we  were  in  "the  army;"  and  what  was  it  after  all? 
We  walked  perhaps  a  mile  or  more  through  the  camps,  and 
the  prominent  ideas  borne  in  upon  me  were — multitude, 
overloading,  lack  of  cohesion  and  of  organization,  absence 
of  women  and  children,  and  a  general  sense  of  roughness 
and  untidiness,  of  discomfort  and  confusion.  Of  course 
these  impressions  were  soon  to  give  way  to  others;  but  it 
was  not  alone  my  impressions  that  changed,  it  was  the  army 
itself.  During  the  few  months  next  ensuing  it  dispensed 
with  useless  baggage  and  equipment,  acquired  cohesion, 
organization,  power  and  endurance,  and  men  learned  to  do 
fairly  well  for  themselves  what  women  had  theretofore  in- 
variably done  for  them.  Under  the  discipline  of  the  next 
twelve  months,  imperfect  as  it  was,  we  trained  down  and 
trained  up,  just  as  the  fighting  men  do,  to  a  condition  of 
bare,  hard  flesh;  compact  yet  supple  muscles;  clean,  clear 
lungs;  sound,  strong  hearts;  and  perfect  possession  and 
control  of  all  our  fighting  powers. 

In  connection  with  this  process  of  training  down  to  fight- 
ing weight,  it  occurs  to  me  that  the  wagon  train  of  the  First 
Company,  Richmond  Howitzers,  during  the  first  nine 
months  of  the  war  was,  I  verily  believe,  quite  as  large  as  that 
of  any  infantry  brigade  in  the  army  during  the  grand  cam- 
paign of  '64.  Many  of  the  private  soldiers  of  the  company 
had  their  trunks  with  them,  and  I  remember  part  of  the  con- 
tents of  one  of  them  consisted  of  a  dozen  face  and  a  smaller 
number  of  foot  or  bath  towels;  and  when  the  order  came 


FROM    CIVIL   TO    MILITARY    LIFE  47 

for  trunks  to  be  sent  back  to  Richmond  or  abandoned,  the 
owner  of  this  elaborate  outfit,  although  but  a  "high  private 
in  the  rear  rank,"  actually  wrote  and  sent  in  to  the  captain 
an  elegant  note  resigning  his  "position."  Yet  this  curled 
and  scented  gentleman  became  a  superb  soldier  and  used  to 
laugh  as  heartily  as  any  of  us  when,  in  after  years,  at  some 
point  of  unusual  want  and  stringency  and  discomfort,  some 
impudent  rascal  would  shout  out,  "Jim,  old  fellow,  don't 
you  think  it's  about  time  for  you  to  resign  again  ?" 

As  to  the  battle-field,  if  it  showed  marked  traces  of  the 
conflict  that  had  taken  place  I  do  not  recall  them.  One 
scene  and  incident,  however,  I  do  recall,  which  made  a  very 
tender  impression  upon  me.  Not  long  after  our  arrival  the 
battery  was  about  to  change  its  position,  indeed  I  think  the 
head  of  the  column  was  already  in  motion,  when  some  one 
said  to  me,  "Captain is  lying  in  that  house  over  yon- 
der seriously,  or  it  may  be  mortally,  wounded;  don't  you 
want  to  go  and  see  him  a  moment  ?"  I  did  not  want  to  go, 
but  I  knew  the  poor  fellow's  sisters  and  felt  as  if  I  ought  to 
go,  and  I  went.  Few  interviews  have  ever  made  deeper 
impression  upon  me.  The  heroic  Christian  man  had  been  a 
prominent  member  of  the  Richmond  bar  and  the  mainstay 
and  support  of  his  sisters.  He  was  now  lying  seriously 
wounded,  in  a  deserted  house,  from  which,  as  I  remember, 
even  the  doors  and  windows  had  been  carried  off,  and  in 
which  there  seemed  to  be  little  or  no  furniture  save  the  bed 
he  occupied.  The  attendant  who  took  care  of  him  was  not 
at  the  moment  in  the  building.  My  comrade  and  I  entered 
and  I  walked  to  the  bedside,  made  myself  known  to  the  Cap- 
tain and  told  him  that  I  had  seen  his  sisters  within  a  day  or 
two  and  that  they  were  well,  but  very  anxious  about  him. 
He  did  not  seem  to  be  suffering  greatly  at  the  time,  but  was 
evidently  death-struck  and  I  think  fully  aware  of  it.  Yet 
there  was  no  shrinking  and  no  tremor.  His  voice  was  firm 
and  clear  and  he  was  entirely  self-possessed.  I  took  his 
hand,  or  he  took  mine,  and  my  recollection  is  that  my  com- 
rade and  I  knelt  by  the  bedside  and  we  all  prayed  together 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  we  left  him  there  in  that  deso- 
late place  to  meet  the  last  enemy;  but  I  felt,  and  I  am  sure 
he  did,  that  he  would  not  meet  him  alone. 


48  FOUR   YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

I  had  helped  to  take  wounded  men  from  the  trains  in 
Richmond,  but  they  were  surrounded  by  relatives  and 
friends,  or  by  admiring,  almost  worshiping  crowds,  and  the 
entire  city,  with  all  it  contained  of  sympathy  and  help,  was 
at  their  feet.  Here,  however,  was  an  entirely  different  pic- 
ture, and  for  a  long  time  my  mind  every  now  and  then  re- 
verted to  it  with  a  sadness  I  could  not  dispel. 

The  intellectual  atmosphere  of  the  Confederate  camps  was 
far  above  what  is  generally  supposed  by  the  people  of  this 
generation,  even  in  the  Southern  States,  and  this  intellectual 
aspiration  and  vigor  of  the  men  were  exhibited  perhaps 
equally  in  their  religious  meetings  and  services  and  in  their 
dramatic  representations  and  other  exhibitions  gotten  up  to 
relieve  the  tedium  of  camp.  But  however  this  may  be  in 
general  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  case  of  the  Richmond 
Howitzers  was  exceptional  in  this  regard.  The  corps  was 
organized  at  the  time  of  the  John  Brown  raid  by  George  W. 
Randolph,  afterwards  Secretary  of  War,  and  has  never  been 
disbanded.  In  1861  it  was  recruited  up  to  three  companies 
and  formed  into  a  battalion,  but  unfortunately  the  first 
company  was  never  associated  with  the  other  two  in  the 
field.  The  composition  of  the  three  companies  was  very 
similar;  that  is,  all  of  them  were  made  up  largely  of  young 
business  men  and  clerks  of  the  highest  grade  and  best  char- 
acter from  the  city  of  Richmond,  but  included  also  a  num- 
ber of  country  boys,  for  the  most  part  of  excellent  families, 
with  a  very  considerable  infusion  of  college-bred  men,  for 
it  was  strikingly  true  that  in  1861  the  flower  of  our  educated 
youth  gravitated  toward  the  artillery.  The  outcome  was 
something  quite  unparalleled,  so  far  as  I  know.  It  is  safe 
to  say  that  not  less  than  one  hundred  men  were  commis- 
sioned from  the  corps  during  the  war,  and  these  of  every 
rank  from  a  Secretary  of  War  down  to  a  second  lieutenant 

Few  things  have  ever  impressed  me  as  did  the  intellec- 
tual and  moral  character  of  the  men  who  composed  the  cir- 
cle I  entered  the  day  our  guide  led  my  brother  and  myself 
to  the  Howitzer  camp.  I  had  lived  for  years  at  the  North, 
had  graduated  recently  at  Yale,  and  had  but  just  entered 


FROM    CIVIL   TO    MILITARY    LIFE  49 

upon  the  study  of  law  in  the  city  of  New  York  when  the  war 
began.  Thus  torn  away  by  the  inexorable  demands  of  con- 
science and  of  loyalty  to  the  South,  from  a  focal  point  of 
intense  intellectual  life  and  purpose,  one  of  my  keenest  re- 
grets was  that  I  was  bidding  a  long  good-by  to  congenial 
surroundings  and  companionships.  To  my  surprise  and  de- 
light, around  the  camp  fires  of  the  First  Company,  Rich- 
mond Howitzers,  I  found  throbbing  an  intellectual  life  as 
high  and  brilliant  and  intense  as  any  I  had  ever  known. 

The  Howitzer  Glee  Club,  trained  and  led  by  Frederick 
Nicholls  Crouch,  author  of  "Kathleen  Mavoureen,"  was 
the  very  best  I  ever  heard,  and  rendered  music  at  once  sci- 
entific and  enjoyable.  No  law  school  in  the  land  ever  had 
more  brilliant  or  powerful  moot  court  discussions  than 
graced  the  mock  trials  of  the  Howitzer  Law  Club.  I  have 
known  the  burial  of  a  tame  crow  to  be  witnessed  not  only 
by  the  entire  command,  but  by  scores,  perhaps  hundreds,  of 
intelligent  people  from  a  neighboring  town,  and  to  be  dig- 
nified not  only  by  salvos  of  artillery,  but  also  by  an  English 
speech,  a  Latin  oration,  and  a  Greek  ode,  which  would  have 
done  honor  to  any  literary  or  memorial  occasion  at  old  Yale. 

There  was  a  private  soldier  in  the  battery — not  the  poet 
of  the  crow's  death  either — a  Grecian  of  such  finished  skill 
that  I  have  known  him  keep,  for  months  together,  a  diary 
of  the  movements  of  the  battery,  in  modern  Greek ;  and  have 
watched  him — wondering  if  there  was  anywhere  to  be  found 
another  man  of  scholarship  and  scholarly  enthusiasm  so 
great — as  he  dodged  the  persistently  pursuing  smoke  of  a 
camp  fire  and  by  its  wretched,  flickering  light,  with  pains- 
taking care,  jotted  down  his  exquisite,  clear  Greek  lettering 
that  looked  like  the  most  perfect  output  of  the  most  perfect 
Greek  press  in  Germany.  So  much  for  the  intellectual  life 
of  our  camp  and  march. 

What  now  of  the  essential  spirit  of  these  young  volun- 
teers? Why  did  they  volunteer?  For  what  did  they  give 
their  lives?  We  can  never  appreciate  the  story  of  their 
deeds  as  soldiers  until  we  answer  this  question  correctly. 

Surely  it  was  not  for  slavery  they  fought.  The  great 
majority  of  them  had  never  owned  a  slave  and  had  little  or 


50  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER    MARSE   ROBERT 

no  interest  in  the  institution.  My  own  father,  for  example, 
had  freed  his  slaves  long  years  before ;  that  is,  all  save  one, 
who  would  not  be  "emancipated,"  our  dear  "Mammy,"  who 
clung  to  us  when  we  moved  to  the  North  and  never  recog- 
nized any  change  in  her  condition  or  her  relations  to  us. 
The  great  conflict  will  never  be  properly  comprehended  by 
the  man  who  looks  upon  it  as  a  war  for  the  preservation  of 
slavery. 

Nor  was  it,  so  far  as  Virginia  was  concerned,  a  war  in 
support  of  the  right  of  secession  or  the  Southern  interpre- 
tation of  the  Constitution.  Virginia  did  not  favor  this  in- 
terpretation; at  least,  she  did  not  favor  the  exercise  of  the 
right  of  secession.  Up  to  President  Lincoln's  call  for 
troops  she  refused  to  secede.  She  changed  her  position 
under  the  distinct  threat  of  invasion.  This  was  the  turning 
point.  The  Whig  party,  the  anti-secession  party  of  Vir- 
ginia, became  the  war  party  of  Virginia  upon  this  issue.  As 
John  B.  Baldwin,  the  great  Whig  and  Union  leader,  said, 
speaking  of  the  effect  of  Lincoln's  call  for  troops,  "We  have 
no  Union  men  in  Virginia  now."  The  change  of  front  was 
instantaneous,  it  was  intuitive.  Jubal  Early  was  the  type 
of  his  party — up  to  the  proclamation,  the  most  extreme  anti- 
secessionist  and  anti-war  man  in  the  Virginia  Convention; 
after  the  proclamation,  the  most  enthusiastic  man  in  the 
Commonwealth  in  advocacy  of  the  war  and  personal  serv- 
ice in  it. 

But  coming  closer  down,  let  us  see  how  the  logic  of  these 
events  wrought  itself  out  among  my  comrades  of  the  How- 
itzer Company.  We  will  take  as  a  type  in  this  instance  the 
case  of  a  brilliantly  endowed  youth  of  excellent  family  in 
Richmond,  who,  like  the  guide  who  piloted  us  to  the  bat- 
tery upon  the  field  of  Manassas,  became  one  of  my  closest 
and  dearest  friends,  but  unlike  him  and  most  unhappily  for 
his  family  and  his  comrades,  sealed  his  fate  and  his  devo- 
tion with  his  life  at  Gettysburg. 

He  was  a  student  at  the  University  of  Virginia  in  the 
spring  of  '61,  and  perhaps  the  most  extreme  and  uncompro- 
mising "Union  man"  among  all  the  young  men  gathered 
there.    Indeed,  so  exaggerated  were  his  anti-secession  views 


FROM    CIVIL   TO    MILITARY    LIFE  5 1 

and  so  bold  and  aggressive  was  he  in  advocacy  of  them,  that 
he  became  very  unpopular,  and  his  friends  feared  serious 
trouble  and  even  bloody  collision.  The  morning  President 
Lincoln's  proclamation  appeared  he  had  gone  down  town  on 
personal  business  before  breakfast,  and  while  there  hap- 
pened to  glance  at  a  paper.  He  returned  at  once  to  the 
University,  but  not  to  breakfast ;  spoke  not  a  word  to  any 
human  being,  packed  his  trunk  with  his  belongings,  left  a 
note  for  the  chairman  of  the  faculty  explaining  his  conduct, 
boarded  the  first  train  for  Richmond  and  joined  a  military 
company,  before  going  to  his  father's  house  or  taking  so 
much  as  a  morsel  of  food. 

What  was  the  overwhelming  force  which  thus  in  a  mo- 
ment transformed  this  splendid  youth?  Was  it  not  the 
God-implanted  instinct  which  impels  a  man  to  defend  his 
own  hearth-stone  ? 

There  were  896  students  at  Harvard  in  1861,  there  were 
604  at  the  University  of  Virginia.  Why  was  it  that  but  73 
out  of  the  896  joined  the  first  army  that  invaded  the  South, 
while  largely  over  half  of  the  604  volunteered  to  meet  the 
invaders?  It  was  manifestly  this  instinct  of  defense  of 
home  which  gave  to  the  Confederate  service,  from  '61  to  '65, 
more  than  2,000  men  of  our  University,  of  whom  it  buried  in 
soldiers'  graves  more  than  400;  while  but  1,040  Harvard 
men  served  in  the  armies  and  navies  of  the  United  States 
during  the  four  years  of  the  war,  and  of  these  only  155 
lost  their  lives  in  the  service.* 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  essential,  the  distinctive  spirit  of 
the  Southern  volunteer.  As  he  hastened  to  the  front  in  the 
spring  of  '61,  he  felt:  "With  me  is  Right,  before  me  is 
Duty,  behind  me  is  Home." 

♦Figures  taken  from  catalogues  of  the  two  institutions,  for  1860-61. 
Prof.  Scheie's  Historical  .Catalogue  of  Students  of  the  University  of  Vir- 
ginia, a  careful  statement  by  Prof.  (Col.)  Charles  S.  Venable  of  the 
same  institution;  and  Francis  H.  Brown's  "Roll  of  Students  of  Harvard 
University  Who  Served  in  the  Army  or  Navy  of  the  United  States 
During  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,"  prepared  by  order  of  the  Corporation. 


CHAPTER  V 

FIELD  ARTILLERY  IN  THE  ARMY  OF  NORTHERN  VIRGINIA 

Inadequacy  of  General  Equipment — Formation  During  First  Two  Years 
— High  Character  of  Men  Accounted  For — An  Extraordinary  Story, 

The  writer  having  served  almost  exclusively  with  the  ar- 
tillery, what  he  has  to  tell  must  necessarily  refer  largely  to 
that  arm.  Some  general  observations  upon  field  artillery  in 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  will  therefore  not  be  out  of 
place. 

With  the  exception  of  a  couple  of  long-range  Whitworth 
guns,  run  in  from  England  through  the  blockade  and  which 
I  never  saw,  the  artillery  of  General  Lee's  army  consisted 
of  old-fashioned  muzzle-loading  pieces,  for  the  most  part 
12-pounder  brass  Napoleons  and  3-inch  rifles.  Batteries  were 
usually  composed  of  four  guns.  For  the  equipment  and 
operation  of  such  a  battery  about  seventy-five  officers  and 
men  were  required  and  say  fifty  horses.  Every  old  artillery- 
man will  recall  the  difficulty  we  experienced  in  keeping  up 
the  supply  of  horses.  After  Gettysburg  it  was  our  habit, 
when  a  piece  became  engaged,  to  send  the  horses  to  the  rear, 
to  some  place  of  safety,  preferring  to  run  the  risk  of  losing 
a  gun  occasionally  rather  than  the  team  that  pulled  it. 

During  the  earlier  stages  of  the  war  our  artillery  corps 
was  very  inadequately  provided  with  clumsy  ordnance  and 
defective  ammunition,  manufactured  for  the  most  part  with- 
in the  Confederate  lines;  but  as  the  struggle  went  on  this 
branch  of  our  service,  as  well  as  our  infantry,  was,  to  a 
constantly  increasing  degree,  supplied  with  improved  guns 
and  ammunition  captured  from  the  armies  opposed  to  us. 
We  also  learned  to  make  better  ammunition  and  more  re- 
liable fuses,  but  never  approached  the  Federal  artillery  either 
in  these  respects  or  in  general  equipment. 


FIELD   ARTILLERY   IN    HIS   ARMY.  53 

For  the  first  two  years  the  armies  of  the  Confederacy  ad- 
hered to  that  very  defective  organization  in  which  single 
batteries  of  artillery  are  attached  to  infantry  brigades.  Two 
evils  resulted :  the  guns  were  under  the  command  of  briga- 
dier-generals of  infantry,  who  generally  had  very  little  re- 
gard for  artillery  and  still  less  knowledge  as  to  the  proper 
handling  of  it ;  and  the  scattering  of  the  batteries  prevented 
that  concentration  of  fire  in  which,  upon  proper  occasion, 
consists  the  great  effectiveness  of  the  arm.  At  and  after 
Chancellorsville,  however,  the  artillery  of  the  Confederate 
armies,  certainly  that  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
began  to  be  massed  into  battalions  composed  of,  say,  four  or 
five  batteries  and  fifteen  to  twenty-five  guns,  and  these 
placed  under  the  command  of  trained  and  experienced  ar- 
tillery officers.  From  that  time  the  artillery  began  to  be 
really  reckoned  and  relied  upon  in  estimating  the  effective 
strength  of  the  army. 

So  much  for  the  physical  aspect  of  the  artillery  of  Gen- 
eral Lee's  army.  A  word  now  as  to  the  character  of  the 
men  who  composed  that  corps.  It  will  of  course  be  admit- 
ted by  every  man  of  intelligence  and  candor  who  served 
under  Lee,  that  his  infantry  was  essentially  his  army;  not 
alone  because  it  constituted  the  bulk  and  body  of  its  fight- 
ing strength,  but  also  because  it  did  the  bulk  and  body  of  the 
fighting;  and  yet  I  think  even  the  infantry  itself  would  ad- 
mit that  the  artillery,  though  appearing  to  afford  least  op- 
portunity for  personal  distinction,  yet  furnished,  in  propor- 
tion to  its  numbers,  perhaps  more  officers  below  the  rank  of 
general  who  were  conspicuous  for  gallantry  and  high  sol- 
diership than  either  of  the  other  two  arms.  Their  names  rise 
unbidden  to  my  lips — Pegram  and  Pelham,  and  Breathed 
and  Carter,  and  Haskell,  and  many,  many  more.  Every 
veteran  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  is  familiar  with 
the  splendid  roll. 

If  this  claim  be  challenged,  it  may  perhaps  best  be  tested 
by  asking  this  question :  admitting  that  the  fact  be  so,  can 
any  satisfactory  explanation  of  it  be  suggested ? 

For  one,  I  answer  unhesitatingly — yes,  I  think  so ;  expla- 
nation amounting  to  demonstration.    I  believe  that  any  man 


54  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

who  looks  into  the  matter  without  prejudice  will  be  ready 
to  admit  that  it  is  to  be  expected  that  artillery  soldiers 
should  excel  in  four  great  soldierly  qualities — intelligence, 
self-possession,  comradeship,  loyalty  to  the  gun. 

I  will  not  stay  now  to  prove  that  these  qualities  charac- 
terized our  artillery  in  an  eminent  degree.  The  remaining 
chapters  of  this  book  will  furnish  abundant  demonstration. 
As  to  intelligence,  the  chapter  last  preceding  would  seem  to 
be  all-sufficient ;  but  apart  from  these  positive  exhibitions  of 
intelligence  and  even  culture  of  a  high  order,  it  is  obvious 
that  the  very  nature  of  the  arm  and  its  operation,  its  com- 
parative mechanical  elaboration  and  complexity,  and  the 
blending  of  scientific  knowledge  and  manual  and  bodily  dex- 
terity required  for  its  most  effective  use,  must  in  large  de- 
gree influence  the  original  selection  and  the  after  develop- 
ment of  the  men  of  the  artillery  branch  of  the  service. 

Again,  an  artilleryman,  officer  or  private  soldier,  should 
be  a  broader-gauged  man,  especially  as  to  his  view  and 
comprehension  of  battle  and  campaign,  than  an  infantry- 
man of  corresponding  grade.  An  infantry  company  in  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
war,  averaged  certainly  not  over  fifteen  or  twenty  men, 
and  covered  but  a  small  space  on  the  line.  A  captain  of 
infantry  saw  and  touched  little  outside  these  narrow  limits. 
Two  or  three  strides,  so  to  speak,  would  cover  all  of  the 
line  he  was  familiar  with  and  responsible  for,  and  he  came 
in  contact  with  no  officer  of  wider  domain  and  control,  save 
his  colonel,  under  whose  eye  and  immediate  direction  he  was 
always,  save  when  on  picket  duty. 

A  captain  of  artillery,  on  the  contrary,  was  often  separ- 
ated from  his  colonel  by  the  stretch  of  several  brigade 
fronts ;  for  a  battalion,  as  usually  placed,  would  cover  about 
the  front  of  a  division,  and  as  he  received  no  orders — after 
the  organization  of  the  artillery  into  battalions — from  any 
infantry  officer  of  less  rank  than  a  major-general,  he  was 
necessarily  thrown  in  great  measure  upon  his  own  resources 
in  the  management  of  a  command  which,  including  all  its 
departments,  was  really  of  greater  complexity  and  difficulty 
than  an  infantry  brigade. 


FIELD    ARTILLERY    IN    HIS    ARMY.  55 

I  trust  I  may  not  be  misunderstood,  or  regarded  as  at- 
tempting to  magnify  over-much  myself  or  my  office,  when  I 
say  that  all  this  applies  with  special  force  to  the  adjutant  of 
an  artillery  battalion.  This  officer, — if  he  does  his  full 
duty, — as  adjutant  of  the  command,  as  personal  staff  and 
aide  to  the  commanding  officer,  and  often  as  battalion  chief 
of  the  line  of  caissons — familiarizing  himself  with  the  posi- 
tions of  all  the  guns  in  battle,  seeing  that  all  are  fully  sup- 
plied with  ammunition  and  anything  and  everything  else 
that  may  be  required,  and  passing  from  one  to  another  as 
the  exigencies  of  the  fight  may  demand — covers  as  wide  a 
stretch  of  the  line,  sees  as  much  of  the  campaign,  and  comes 
as  much  into  contact  with  officers  of  high  grade  as  any  of- 
ficer of  his  rank  in  the  service.  To-day,  more  than  a  genera- 
tion after  that  heroic  Olympiad,  it  is  a  deep  satisfaction  to 
be  able  to  say  that  I  endeavored  to  do  my  full  duty  as  adju- 
tant of  Cabell's  Battalion — to  attend  to  all  my  duties  in  this 
broader  and  fuller  construction  of  them,  and  in  battle,  .as 
far  as  possible,  to  be  with  that  one  of  our  batteries  which 
was  most  heavily  engaged.  The  campaign  of  1864  was  the 
only  one  in  which  I  acted  as  adjutant  of  an  artillery  battal- 
ion from  the  outset  to  the  end,  and  in  consequence  my 
knowledge  of  that  campaign  is  at  once  more  compiehensive 
ana  more  detailed  than  of  any  other,  and  what  I  have  to  tell 
of  it  is  of  greater  value. 

The  training  of  the  artillery  service  in  the  development 
of  imperturbable  self-possession,  in  emergency  and  crisis,  is 
self-evident  and  requires  no  comment.  To  appreciate  it  to 
the  full,  it  was  only  necessary  to  look  at  one  of  our  guns,  al- 
ready overmatched,  at  the  moment  when  a  fresh  gun  of  the 
enemy,  rushing  up  at  a  wild  gallop,  and  seizing  a  nearer  and 
enfilading  position,  hurled  a  percussion  shell,  crashing  with 
fearful  uproar  against  our  piece,  and  sweeping  almost  the 
entire  gun  detachment  to  the  earth.  At  such  a  moment  I 
have  marked  the  sergeant  or  gunner  of  such  a  piece  coolly 
disengage  himself  from  the  wreck  and,  stepping  to  one 
side,  stoop  to  take  his  observations  and  make  his  calcula- 
tions, of  distance  and  of  time,  free  from  the  dust  and  smoke 
of  the  explosion ;  then,  with  ringing  voice,  call  out  to  No.  6 


56  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

at  the  limber, — whose  duty  it  was  to  cut  the  fuse, — "three 
seconds !"  then,  stepping  back  and  bending  over  the  trail 
handspike,  doggedly  aim  his  strained  and  half-disabled 
piece,  as  the  undisabled  remnant  of  the  detachment  step  over 
the  dead  and  dying  bodies  of  their  comrades,  each  in  the 
discharge  of  the  doubled  and  trebled  duties  now  devolving 
upon  him.  The  story  I  have  to  tell  is  full  of  kindred  scenes. 
Another  of  the  most  marked  and  developing  features  of 
the  artillery  service  is  comradeship. 

I  do  not  mean  that  lighter  sense  of  happy  and  kindly  as- 
sociation which  certainly  did  characterize  the  artillery,  of 
General  Lee's  army  at  least,  in  very  high  degree.  I  refer  now 
to  an  element  far  deeper  and  more  powerful — the  inter- 
dependence, the  reliance  upon  each  other,  which  inheres  in 
the  very  nature  of  artillery  service,  and  is  indispensable  of 
the  effective  working  of  the  gun. 

The  unit  of  the  infantry  is  the  man;  of  the  cavalry,  the 
man  and  horse;  of  the  artillery,  the  detachment.  While 
co-operation  is  a  duty  and  in  some  degree  a  necessity  in  in- 
fantry service,  yet  a  single  infantry  soldier  operates  his  arm 
perfectly,  indeed  each  one  is  complete  in  himself — more  than 
one  cannot  operate  the  same  arm  at  the  same  time.  If  one 
runs  away  he  only  renders  himself  useless,  he  deprives  his 
country  of  his  services  alone. 

No  so  with  the  artillery.  It  takes  ten  cannoneers  (exclu- 
sive of  drivers)  to  make  a  gun  detachment.  Each  man  has 
his  special  part  to  perform,  but  all  indispensable  to  the  per- 
fect working  of  the  piece,  so  that  each  man  is  dependent 
upon  all  the  rest.  If  one  fails,  all  the  rest  are  affected,  and 
even  the  piece  itself  is  rendered  so  far  inefficient.  Upon  each 
man  rests  the  responsibility  for  the  effective  service  of  the 
detachment  and  the  gun. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  this  distinction,  and  equally 
impossible  not  to  admit  the  importance  of  it,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  a  soldierly  character.  Again,  I  say,  my  story  will 
not  fail  to  furnish  apt  and  impressive  illustration. 

But  the  strongest  sentiment,  aye,  passion,  of  the  true  artil- 
lerymen is  loyalty  to  the  gun. 


FIELD    ARTILLERY    IN    HIS    ARMY.  57 

The  gun  is  the  rallying  point  of  the  detachment,  its  point 
of  honor,  its  flag,  its  banner.  It  is  that  to  which  the  men 
look,  by  which  they  stand,  with  and  for  which  they  fight,  by 
and  for  which  they  fall.  As  long  as  the  gun  is  theirs,  they 
are  unconquered,  victorious ;  when  the  gun  is  lost,  all  is  lost. 
It  is  their  religion  to  fight  it  until  the  enemy  is  out  of  range, 
or  until  the  gun  itself  is  withdrawn,  or  until  both  it  and  the 
detachment  are  in  the  hands  of  the  foe.  An  infantryman  in 
flight  often  flings  away  his  musket.  I  do  not  recall  ever  hav- 
ing heard  of  a  Confederate  artillery  detachment  abandoning 
its  gun  without  orders. 

Nor  were  the  Federal  artillerymen  one  whit  behind  in 
this  loyal  devotion  to  their  pieces.  One  of  the  Haskells,  who, 
as  I  remember,  served  on  General  McGowan's  staff,  told 
me  this  vivid  story.  It  seems  almost  incredible,  yet  I  have 
no  reason  to  question  its  truth;  at  all  events,  it  is  too  good 
not  to  be  told. 

In  one  of  the  late  combats  of  the  war,  far  away  down  on 
the  right  of  our  line,  Pegram,  passing  ahead  of  his  infantry 
support,  had  advanced  his  entire  battalion  against  the  enemy 
strongly  entrenched — showering  double-shotted  canister  into 
their  infantry  line  and  belching  solid  shot  across  the  narrow 
ditch,  in  the  very  faces  of  their  gunners  and  into  the  very 
muzzles  of  their  guns.  The  Federal  artillerymen,  as  was 
their  wont,  fought  him  fiercely,  muzzle  to  muzzle — until 
McGowan's  infantry  coming  up,  Pegram  passed  around  the 
work,  to  the  right  and  front,  after  the  retiring  Federal  in- 
fantry, while  the  artillerymen  and  their  pieces  fell  into  Mc- 
Gowan's hands. 

Most  of  the  horses  of  the  staff  had  been  killed  or  dis- 
abled, and  they  had  mounted  Federal  artillery  horses  from 
which  in  some  cases  the  harness  had  not  been  removed,  so 
that,  as  the  staff  officers  rode  to  and  fro  delivering  orders, 
the  trace  chains  rattled  and  jingled  merrily. 

The  Federal  gunners  had  done  what  they  could  on  the  in- 
stant to  disable  their  pieces  for  the  time,  throwing  away  the 
lanyards  and  running  the  screws  down  low,  so  that  the 
muzzles  pointed  high  in  the  air.  Having  rooted  out  a  few 
friction  primers  from  a  gunner's  haversack  and  fished  a 


58  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

string  or  a  handkerchief  out  of  someone's  pocket,  for  a  lan- 
yard, McGowan's  infantry  managed  to  load  one  of  the  cap- 
tured pieces  and,  turning  it  in  the  direction  of  the  retreating 
Federals,  sent  two  or  three  shots  whizzing  over  their  heads, 
to  seek  the  quartermasters  and  wagon  camps  in  the  rear. 

Meanwhile,  the  gunner  of  this  particular  piece,  a  tall, 
splendid-looking  fellow,  stood  hard  by,  with  his  lip  curled  in 
scorn  and  his  arms  twitching  convulsively;  until  at  last, 
unable  to  stand  it  longer,  he  sprang  into  the  midst  of  the 
blundering  infantry  and  hurled  them  right  and  left,  shout- 
ing: 

"Stand  aside,  you  infernal,  awkward  boobies !  Let  me  at 
that  screw !"  meanwhile  whirling  it  rapidly  up,  until  the  gun 
came  down  into  proper  range.  Then,  seizing  the  trail  hand- 
spike and  aiming  the  piece,  he  sprang  back,  yelling  out: 
"Now,  try  that !    Let  'em  have  it !    Fire !" 

Away  flew  the  shell  on  its  flight  of  death,  until  it  tore 
through  the  line  of  his  own  friends.  And  he  continued  thus 
to  direct  the  movement  of  the  awkward  squad  of  rebel  can- 
noneers, and  to  sight  and  fire  the  piece,  until  the  Federal  in- 
fantry were  out  of  range.  Then,  stamping  his  great  foot 
upon  the  ground  and  gesturing  wildly  with  his  great  clench- 
ed fist,  he  exclaimed : 

"Damned  if  I  can  stand  by  and  see  my  gun  do  such  shoot- 
ing as  that !" 


CHAPTER  VI 

FROM    MANASSAS  TO   LEESBURG. 

March  and  Counter-march — Longstreet  and  Prince  Napoleon — Leesburg 
— The  Battle — The  Mississippians — D.  H.  Hill — Fort  Johnston. 

During  the  first  few  days  of  wild  hurrah,  uncertainty,  and 
drift  which  followed  our  victory  at  Manassas,  the  guns  of 
our  battery  were  marched  and  counter-marched  on  scouting 
expeditions,  first  with  one  brigade  and  then  with  another. 
Our  most  noteworthy  experience  was  with  Longstreet's, 
then  known  as  the  "Fourth  Brigade,"  in  connection  with 
which  we  were  reviewed  by  Prince  Napoleon  at  Centreville. 
The  Prince  did  not  strike  me  as  an  impressive  man,  but  I 
recall  the  ease  and  confidence  with  which  Longstreet  handled 
both  his  artillery  and  infantry  commands  in  the  various  ma- 
neuvers, and  the  riding  of  one  of  the  young  officers  of  his 
staff,  who  sat  his  beautiful  thoroughbred  superbly,  dashing 
at  full  speed  from  point  to  point,  leaping  ditches  and  ob- 
structions without  being  once  jarred  in  his  seat,  though 
using  a  flat  English  saddle  and  that  without  stirrups.  I  re- 
member, too,  that  it  was  so  hot  on  the  sun-scorched  plain 
that  the  metal-covered  tops  of  the  ammunition  chests  ac- 
tually burned  us  cannoneers,  as  we  mounted  and  dismounted 
at  command,  in  the  battery  drill. 

The  generals  in  the  ranks,  of  whom  there  was,  even  at 
this  early  stage,  an  abundant  supply,  being  still  of  the  opin- 
ion that  we  ought  to  be  and  soon  would  be  ordered  to  occupy 
Washington,  regarded  these  several  movements  as  in  execu- 
tion of  or  preparation  for  that  grand  objective — an  objec- 
tive which  our  commanding  generals,  for  reasons  doubtless 
satisfactory  to  themselves,  seem  to  have  soon  given  up — if 
indeed  they  ever  seriously  contemplated  it.  Within  a  short 
time  all  idea  of  a  general  offensive  seeming  to  have  been 


60  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

abandoned,  even  by  the  staff  contingent  in  the  ranks,  we 
were,  on  the  nth  of  August,  '61,  ordered  to  Leesburg, 
under  Brigadier-General  N.  G.  Evans,  of  South  Carolina, 
whose  force  consisted  of  the  Thirteenth,  Seventeenth  and 
Eighteenth  Mississippi  Regiments,  the  Eighth  Virginia  In- 
fantry, our  battery,  and  two  companies  of  cavalry. 

Leesburg,  the  county  seat  of  Loudoun,  was  at  this  time, 
perhaps,  the  most  desirable  post  in  our  lines,  on  account  of 
the  character  both  of  the  country  and  its  people — the  former 
beautiful  and  rich,  full  of  everything  needed  by  man  and 
beast,  and  the  latter  whole-hearted  and  hospitable,  ready  to 
share  with  us  all  they  had.  If  ever  soldiers  had  a  more  ideal 
time  than  we  enjoyed  at  Leesburg,  then  I  cannot  conceive 
when  or  where  it  was.  During  the  war,  in  hunger  and 
thirst,  in  want  and  weariness  and  blood,  our  'thoughts 
would  often  turn  fondly  back  to  our  bucolic  Loudoun  para- 
dise. "When  this  cruel  war  was  over"  more  than  one  of  our 
boys  went  back  there  to  get  "the  girl  he  left  behind  him" 
from  '61  to  '65,  but  would  never  leave  again;  and  to-day 
many  a  grizzled,  wrinkled,  burdened  man  feels  his  heart 
grow  young  again  and  breaks  into  sunny  smiles  when  a  com- 
rade of  the  long  ago  slaps  him  on  the  back  and  reminds  him 
of  the  good  times  we  had  at  Leesburg.  It  was  here  we 
buried  the  crow,  with  honors  literary  and  military;  nor 
was  this  by  any  means  the  only  camp  entertainment  with 
which  we  returned  the  many  civilities  extended  to  us  by  our 
fair  friends  in  the  good  little  burg. 

Of  course,  where  there  were  so  many  brave  knights  all 
could  not  always  succeed  with  the  fair  ladies.  One  of  the 
defeated  took  this  startling  and  original  revenge  upon  his 
successful  rival.  "The  captain  with  his  whiskers"  had  re- 
peatedly run  him  off  from  a  new-found  Dulcinea,  and  this 
same  result  happening  once  more,  our  hero  returned  to 
camp  weary  and  disgusted  and  threw  himself  down  to  sleep. 
Owing  to  some  abnormal  condition  of  mind  or  body,  he  was 
at  the  time  much  given  to  talking  in  his  sleep  and,  dreaming 
himself  on  guard  and  inquiry  made  as  to  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  force,  he  electrified  his  half-slumbering  com- 
panions by  shouting  out : 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  6 1 

"Halt!  You  want  to  know  who  commands  this  battery, 
do  you?  Well,  sir,  General  Susceptibility  commands  this 
battery,  with  a  numerous  staff  of  volunteer  aides !" 

Poor  fellow;  but  he  was  soon  promoted  to  a  captaincy 
and  commanded  a  battery  of  his  own,  and  doubtless  avenged 
his  grievous  wrong's  by  perpetrating  the  like  on  his  own  boys 
upon  occasion.  Very  recently  he  received  his  last  promo- 
tion, having  fought  a  good  fight  for  many  years  as  a  faith- 
ful Christian  minister. 

We  saw  no  really  hard  service  at  Leesburg,  though  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  force  gradually  increased.  Our  horses  being  in 
fine  condition  with  the  abundant  forage,  and  the  great,  open 
fields  affording  a  fine  arena  for  it,  we  devoted  ourselves  as- 
siduously to  battery  drill.  There  was  also  considerable 
scouting  up  and  down  the  river  and  some  little  firing  across. 
One  of  our  own  men  was  wounded  in  one  of  these  affairs  and 
one  or  two  cavalrymen  killed. 

About  the  middle  of  October,  however,  General  Evans 
withdrew  his  force  and  made  a  feint  of  retreat,  which  drew 
the  enemy  across  to  our  side  of  the  river.  .Their  plan  of 
attack  seems  to  have  been  well  conceived  and  came  very 
near  being  successfully  executed.  They  landed  in  two 
columns,  one  at  Edwards'  Ferry  and  another  at  Ball's  Bluff, 
considerably  nearer  to  the  town,  the  latter  point,  especially, 
being  concealed  by  thick  woods.  Our  little  army  returned 
in  the  very  nick  of  time,  but  were  misled  as  to  the  disposition 
and  designs  of  the  enemy,  regarding  the  Edwards'  Ferry 
force  as  the  main  and  dangerous  body,  and  were  either  en- 
tirely ignorant  of  the  crossing  at  Ball's  Bluff,  or  at  least 
did  not  regard  that  as  of  any  magnitude  or  moment.  In- 
deed, as  I  recollect,  the  presence  of  these  latter  troops  was 
discovered  as  it  were  by  accident,  just  as  they  emerged  from 
the  forest,  and  were  practically  between  us  and  Leesburg. 
But  General  Evans  acted  with  vigor  after  the  true  condition 
of  things  was  developed,  rapidly  concentrating  his  force  to 
meet  the  advance  from  Ball's  Bluff;  first  checking  and  then 
staggering  it,  and  finally  driving  the  entire  body  back  in 
bloody  repulse  upon  and  into  the  river,  where  many  were 
drowned. 


62  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

To  us  it  seemed  a  mistake  not  then  to  have  attacked  the 
Edwards'  Ferry  force,  but  there  may  have  been  good  reason 
for  not  doing  so.  The  gallant  Eighth  Virginia,  under  its 
staunch  Colonel,  afterwards  General,  Eppa  Hunton — since 
the  war  both  a  Congressman  and  a  Senator  of  the  United 
States  from  Virginia — took  a  prominent  and  honorable  part 
in  the  fight,  which  was  hotly  contested  and  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  of  the  minor  battles  of  the  war  in  the  dispro- 
portion of  the  enemy's  loss  to  the  number  engaged  on  our 
side.  No  part  of  the  honor,  however,  belongs  to  our  bat- 
tery, as  the  fighting  took  place  in  heavy  woods,  where  it 
was  impracticable  to  carry  our  guns.   ~ 

To  me  the  battle  of  Leesburg,  or  Ball's  Bluff,  as  the  Fed- 
erals called  it,  presented  several  points  of  rather  special  in- 
terest. First,  the  gallant  and  almost  marvelous  escape  of  a 
young  Federal  officer,  named  Crowninshield,  who  had  been 
the  strongest  man  on  the  Harvard  boat  crew  about  the  time 
I  held  the  like  prominent  position  among  the  boating 
men  of  Yale.  In  the  account  of  the  battle,  given  by  one  of 
the  Northern  papers,  I  noticed,  with  great  interest  and  pleas- 
ure, that  Crowninshield,  rather  than  surrender,  swam  the 
river  and  made  good  his  escape,  after  his  right  arm  had  been 
shattered  by  a  Minie  ball.  It  was  really  a  plucky  and  splen- 
did feat. 

Then,  too,  I  very  much  enjoyed  a  newspaper  report  of  a 
speech  of  Roscoe  Conkling,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives at  Washington,  upon  this  battle,  in  the  course  of 
which,  extolling  the  valor  of  the  Federal  troops,  he  quoted 
from  Tennyson's  "Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade"  the  lines :  • 

"Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  in  front  of  them, 

Volleyed  and  thundered." 

This  was  at  once  amusing  and  aggravating,  as  we  had 
felt  peculiarly  chagrined  at  not  being  able  to  fire  even  so 
much  as  one  shot  while  the  battle  roared  in  the  thicket  in 
front  of  us.  The  enemy,  on  the  contrary,  did  have  and  use 
at  least  one  gun,  a  brass  three-inch  rifle,  which  was  captured 
and  turned  over  to  our  battery. 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  63 

A  third  incident  was  of  a  more  personal  nature.  I  had 
broken  my  knee-cap  by  a  heavy  fall  during  our  feigned  re- 
treat, and  the  limb  had  become  as  rigid  as  a  bar  of  steel.  My 
gun  detachment  was  very  anxious  I  should  take  part  in  the 
fight,  and,  of  course,  I  was  eager  for  it,  as  I  had  seen  no 
service,  and  it  had  been  agreed  I  should  act  as  gunner  and 
sight  the  piece.  We  changed  position  several  times  during 
the  action,  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  a  point  from  which 
we  might  fire  upon  the  enemy  without  imperilling  our  own 
men,  and  I  was  carried  from  one  to  another  of  these  posi- 
tions, or  as  near  as  might  be,  in  an  ambulance,  driven  by  a 
half-witted  youth  named  Grover,  employed  for  that  purpose. 

As  I  was  getting  out  of  the  vehicle,  for  the  third  or  fourth 
time,  and  preparing  to  hobble  painfully  up  the  hill  to  take 
my  place  at  the  gun,  I  said  to  him:  "Grover,  why  don't 
you  go  up  yonder  with  me  to  fight  ?  You  are  better  able  to 
do  it  than  I  am." 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "but  there's  a  differ." 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  I  asked;  "what  is  the  differ?" 

"Why,"  said  he,  "you  see,  you  'listed  ter  git  killed  and  I 
'listed  ter  drive  a  avalanche." 

It  is  of  course  familiar  to  students  of  the  financial  history 
of  the  Confederacy,  yet  it  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest  to 
the  general  public,  to  note  that,  in  the  South  during  the  war, 
banks,  municipalities,  companies,  and,  even  in  some  cases, 
individuals  issued  fractional  notes  or  shin  plasters  which 
passed  as  currency  supplementary  to  the  Treasury  notes  is- 
sued by  the  Confederate  Government.  I  am  confident  every 
surviving  member  of  our  battery,  who  was  with  us  at  Lees- 
burg,  will  recall  the  little  "dog  money"  notes  issued  by  the 
town,  ornamented  by  a  picture  of  a  majestic  Newfoundland 
dog  lying  down  before  a  massive  iron  safe  supposed  to  be 
full  of  currency.  No  one,  so  far  as  I  know,  ever  questioned 
the  validity  of  Leesburg's  fiat  money;  certainly  we  Howit- 
zers experienced  no  difficulty  whatever  in  getting  rid  of  all 
we  could  get  our  hands  upon. 

About  the  middle  of  November,  pursuant  to  a  policy  of 
brigading  together,  so  far  as  possible,  troops  from  the  same 
State,  the  Eighth  Virginia  Regiment  was  ordered  back  to 


6\  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

Manassas,  and  the  Twenty-first  Mississippi,  commanded  by 
Col.  B.  G.  Humphreys,  was  sent  to  fill  its  place — the  entire 
Mississippi  brigade,  consisting  of  the  Thirteenth,  Seven- 
teenth, Eighteenth  and  Twenty-first  Regiments,  being  then, 
or  shortly  after,  put  under  the  command  of  General  Griffith, 
of  that  State,  who  was  killed  at  Savage  Station  in  June,  '62, 
when  Barksdale,  theretofore  colonel  of  the  Thirteenth,  was 
made  brigadier-general  and  took  command  of  the  brigade, 
which  bore  his  name  up  to  Gettysburg,  where  he  met  his  gal- 
lant death.  Thereupon  Colonel  Humphreys,  of  the  Twenty- 
first,  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  brigadier,  and  in  turn 
commanded  and  christened  this  fine  body  of  soldiers.  It 
may  be  well  to  mention  that  Colonel  Featherstone,  of  the 
Seventeenth,  was  made  brigadier  in  the  spring  of  '62,  so  that 
three  out  of  the  four  original  colonels  of  this  brigade  be- 
came generals,  the  fourth,  Colonel  Burt,  of  the  Eighteenth, 
having  been  killed  at  Ball's  Bluff.  I  may  also  add  that  Gen- 
eral Humphreys  was  elected  Governor  of  Mississippi  shortly 
after  the  close  of  the  war. 

For  more  than  a  year  after  the  battle  of  Leesburg,  we 
were  closely  associated  with  these  sturdy  fellows  and  be- 
came strongly  attached  to  them ;  indeed,  up  to  the  very  end, 
the  two  commands  never  crossed  each  other's  path  without 
hearty  cheers  and  handshakes. 

This  Mississippi  brigade  was,  in  many  respects,  the  finest 
body  of  men  I  ever  saw.  They  were  almost  giants  in  size 
and  power.  In  the  color  company  of  the  Seventeenth  Regi- 
ment, when  we  first  met  them,  there  were  thirty-five  men 
more  than  six  feet  one  inch  high,  and  in  the  Twenty-first 
there  was  one  man  six  feet  seven  inches  in  height,  and  su- 
perbly formed,  except  that  his  shoulders  were  a  trifle  too 
square  and  too  broad  in  proportion.  They  were  healthy  and 
hardy,  even  ruddy,  which  was  surprising,  coming  as  they  did 
from  a  region  generally  regarded  as  full  of  malarial  poison. 
They  were  bear  hunters  from  the  swamps  and  cane  brakes 
and,  naturally  enough,  almost  without  exception  fine  shots. 

As  a  body,  they  were  very  young  men  and  brimful  of 
irrepressible  enthusiasm,  equally  for  play  and  for  fight.  The 
laugh,  the  song,  the  shout,  the  yell  of  the  rebel  charge  burst 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  65 

indifferently  from  their  lips;  but  in  any  and  every  case  the 
volume  of  sound  was  tremendous.  It  was  a  common  saying 
that  the  "sick  men"  left  in  Barksdale's  camp,  when  the  brig- 
ade was  away  on  duty,  made  more  noise  than  any  other  full 
brigade  in  the  army.  The  only  comment  I  have  to  make 
upon  this  statement  is  that  I  cannot  recall  ever  having  seen 
one  of  them  sick  or  "ailing"  in  any  way,  except  when  suffer- 
ing from  hunger  or  from  wounds.  At  times  they  seemed 
about  as  rough  as  the  bears  they  had  hunted,  yet  they  were 
withal  simple-minded  and  tender-hearted  boys,  and  at  Fred- 
ericksburg hundreds  of  them  became  Christians. 

I  knew  almost  every  man  in  the  brigade  and  often  at- 
tended their  religious  meetings.  Many  a  time,  after  I  be- 
came adjutant  of  our  battalion  of  artillery,  Col.  H.  C.  Ca- 
bell's, as  I  galloped  past  their  lines  awaiting  the  order  to 
charge,  my  heart  has  been  cheered  and  strengthened  by  a 
chorus  of  manly  voices  calling  after  me,  "God  bless  you, 
Brother  Stiles,  and  cover  your  head  in  the  day  of  battle!" 
How  could  I  help  loving  these  simple,  brave,  great-hearted 
fellows. 

Early  in  December,  '61,  General  Evans  was  relieved  of  the 
command  at  Leesburg  and  sent,  I  think,  to  South  Carolina, 
his  native  State,  to  take  charge  of  some  troops  there,  and 
Gen.  D.  H.  Hill,  of  North  Carolina,  was  put  in  his  place. 
He  was  a  brother-in-law  of  Stonewall  Jackson  and,  like  him, 
a  thorough  Christian  and  thorough  Calvinist.  That  he  was 
likewise  a  thorough  soldier  may  be  inferred,  as  the  logicians 
would  say,  "a-priori  and  a-posteriori,"  from  the  two  facts, 
that  he  was  a  graduate  of  West  Point,  and  that  he  attained 
the  rank  of  lieutenant-general  in  the  Confederate  service.  He 
was,  moreover,  a  man  of  intellect  and  culture,  with  a  de- 
cided taste  for  scholarship  and  letters,  having  been,  both  be- 
fore and  since  the  war,  connected  with  educational  institu- 
tions of  high  grade  and  a  writer  of  books,  both  scientific  and 
religious. 

Like  Jackson  he  was,  too,  a  born  fighter — as  aggressive, 
pugnacious  and  tenacious  as  a  bull-dog,  or  as  any  soldier  in 
the  service,  and  he  had  a  sort  of  monomania  on  the  subject 
of  personal  courage. 


66  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

It  is  certainly  worthy  of  note  that  this  fighting  zeal  is  so 
frequently  combined  with  a  high  degree  of  spiritual  re- 
ligion. 

Almost  countless  stories  are  told  of  the  grim  courage  and 
grit  of  General  Hill.  In  the  first  Maryland  campaign  he 
held  the  pass  at  Boonsboro  for  many  hours  with  a  mere 
handful  of  troops  against  McClellan's  overwhelming  num- 
bers, thus  giving  time  for  Jackson  to  complete  his  capture  of 
Harper's  Ferry  and  join  Lee  at  Sharpsburg.  It  is  said 
that  toward  the  close  of  the  Boonsboro  fight,  riding  down  his 
short  line,  his  men  reported  that  they  were  out  of  ammuni- 
tion, and  that  the  stern  old  North  Carolina  Puritan  re- 
plied :    "Well,  what  of  it?    Here  are  plenty  of  rocks!" 

His  habit  was,  when  his  skirmishers  were  firing  wildly, 
to  ride  out  among  them,  and  if  he  noticed  a  man  lying  down 
or  behind  protection  and  firing  carelessly,  he  would  make 
him  get  right  up  and  come  and  stand  out  in  the  open,  by  his 
horse,  and  load  his  musket  and  hand  it  to  him.  Then  he 
would  crane  his  neck  until  he  saw  a  Federal  skirmisher, 
when  he  would  point  him  out  to  his  man,  but  would  fire  at 
him  himself,  not  only  taking  long,  portentous  aim  before 
pulling  trigger,  but  making  equally  long  examination  after- 
wards to  determine  whether  he  had  hit  him;  and  he  would 
continue  and  distribute  these  blood-curdling  object-lessons 
until  his  men  settled  down  to  a  style  of  firing  that  suited 
him. 

Very  amusing  accounts  passed  around  the  army  about  "old 
D.  H."  every  now  and  then  "treating"  the  non-combatant 
officers  of  his  staff — the  quartermasters,  commissaries,  and 
doctors — to  what  he  called  "a  little  airing  in  a  fight,"  when 
he  thought  they  stood  in  need  of  it,  or  heard  that  they  had 
been  "airing,"  a  little  freely,  their  own  martial  experience 
and  prowess. 

Occasionally,  in  his  official  reports,  he  gave  the  tartest 
and  most  amusing  expressions  to  his  strenuous  views  and 
standards  of  soldierly  courage  and  devotion.  I  recall  one 
in  which,  in  commenting  upon  the  flight  of  a  body  of  cavalry 
before  overwhelming  numbers,  he  remarks  incidentally,  that 
it  takes  a  good  man  to  stand  and  fight  against  heavy  odds, 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  67 

when  he  has  only  two  legs  under  him;  but  that  if  you  put 
six  legs  under  him  to  run  away  with,  it  requires  the  best 
kind  of  a  man  to  stand  and  fight. 

In  another  report,  in  describing  a  stampede  and  the  crush 
and  jam  of  fugitives  in  the  highway,  he  says,  "Not  a  dog; 
no,  not  even  a  sneaking  exempt,  could  have  made  his  way 
through." 

As  early  in  the  drama  as  the  Leesburg  campaign  he  had 
begun  to  indulge  and  exhibit  these  rather  peculiar  notions 
and  habits.  Soon  after  taking  command,  desiring  to  know 
the  number,  calibre,  and  character  of  the  Federal  guns 
across  the  river,  he  gathered  a  large  escort  and  rode  up  and 
down  the  river  bank  in  a  manner  calculated  to  attract  the 
fire  of  artillery,  and  when  the  enemy  accepted  his  invita- 
tion and  the  shell  came  singing  over  and  buried  itself  in  the 
earth  hard  by,  he  called  for  a  pick  and  shovel,  dismounted 
and  dug  it  up  with  his  own  hands,  apparently  unconscious 
that  other  shells  were  shrieking  and  bursting  about  him  and 
his  improvised  and  somewhat  nervous  staff.  Of  course  this 
impressed  us  no  little;  exactly  how,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
say.  One  thing,  however,  was  clear — that  this  apparent  un- 
consciousness of  personal  peril  was  in  no  degree  "put  on," 
that  our  general  was  undoubtedly  "to  the  manner  born." 

Our  company  had  special  reason  for  desiring  to  make  a 
good  impression  upon  General  Hill.  At  the  battle  of  Bethel, 
or  "Big  Bethel,"  where  he  commanded  a  regiment  and  won 
the  spurs  and  stars  of  a  general,  he  had  with  him  the  other 
two  companies  of  our  "Howitzer  Battalion,"  which  unfor- 
tunately never  materialized  in  the  field.  We  did  not  wish 
him  to  draw  unfavorable  comparisons  and  gave  him  no 
reason  for  doing  so,  though  we  had  no  opportunity,  while 
under  him,  of  distinguishing  ourselves. 

He  was  a  man  of  strong  likes  and  dislikes,  and  in  some 
way  was  led  to  notice  and  to  conceive  a  decided  liking  for 
me.  Not  long  after  he  assumed  command  he  ordered  Cap- 
tain Shields  to  send,  I  think,  a  sergeant  and  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  men,  of  whom  I  was  one,  to  take  charge  of  Fort 
Johnston,  a  considerable,  closed  earth-work,  on  a  command- 
ing eminence  about  a  mile  out  of  town,  which  mounted  two 


68  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

or  three  siege  pieces  of  rather  clumsy  construction,  fired  by 
friction  primer  like  field  pieces.  In  addition  to  this,  we 
generally  had  one  and,  much  of  the  time,  two,  of  our  field 
pieces  also  with  us  at  the  fort.  About  the  same  time,  the 
general  ordered  about  the  same  number  of  Mississippians — 
that  is  to  say,  enough  for  two  gun  detachments — to  report 
at  the  fort  and  to  be  under  my  special  charge.  I  have  an 
indistinct  recollection  that  I  selected  these  men.  The  idea 
was  that  we  light  artillerymen  should  adapt  our  drill  to  the 
heavy  guns  and  then  teach  the  Mississippians  the  manual 
and  use  of  both  field  and  siege  pieces,  so  that  all  of  us  could 
work  effectually  all  the  pieces  in  the  fort. 

The  Mississippians  were  glad  to  come.  They  liked  the 
noise  and  smoke  and  uproar  of  the  guns.  There  never  were 
two  such  field  artillery  detachments  as  they  made  after  a  brief 
period  of  drill.  They  would  shove  the  pieces  up  almost  any 
hillside,  however  steep,  and  would  even  hold  them  against 
the  recoil  when  inclined  to  roll  too  far  back.  We  passed  a 
good  deal  of  time  running  up  and  down  the  river  with  the 
field  pieces,  the  captain  sometimes  with  us  and  sometimes 
not,  appearing  first  on  one  commanding  hilltop  and  then 
on  another,  and  firing  across  at  the  railroad  trains  and  canal 
boats  on  the  other  side.  On  two  or  three  occasions  we 
stirred  up  a  hornet's  nest  in  the  shape  of  Federal  batteries 
which  happened  to  be  drilling  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
once  were  compelled  to  withdraw  with  more  speed  than 
dignity;  but  my  irrepressible  Mississippi  artillerymen  made 
fun  of  it  all,  actually  playing  leap  frog  down  the  steep  Lou- 
doun hillside,  under  a  galling  fire,  from  perhaps  eight  or 
ten  guns.  I  was  quite  an  athlete  at  the  time,  having  been 
considered  the  strongest  man  at  Yale  while  there,  and  had 
reason  to  deem  myself  an  expert  in  matters  involving  physi- 
cal achievement  and  endurance.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  say- 
ing that  I  never  witnessed  an  exhibition  of  bounding,  buoy- 
ant power  and  unshakeable  bodily  soundness  and  stamina  that 
compared  with  this  performance  of  the  Mississippians.  The 
men  were  all,  or  most  of  them,  over  six  feet  in  height  and 
averaged,  I  should  say,  over  200  pounds  in  weight,  and  yet 
they  ran  down  the  steep  slope,  keeping  abreast  of  galloping 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  69 

horses,  and  leaping  over  each  other's  shoulders,  the  head  of 
course  inclined,  but  the  column  of  the  body  almost  up- 
right; and  as  the  leaper  would  strike  far  below,  with  a  jar 
calculated  to  jolt  a  man's  vital  organs  out  of  gear  forever, 
he  would  instantly  assume  position  again,  with  a  shout,  while 
two  hundred  pounds  of  yelling,  human  trap-ball  would  in 
turn  execute  the  perilous  flying  leap  over  his  head. 

The  situation  at  Fort  Johnston,  from  the  view-point  of 
rank,  command,  and  subordination,  was  mixed  and  delicate 
enough  already,  though  I  had  no  real  difficulty,  with  my  own 
company  officers,  in  keeping  up  my  little  imperium  in  im- 
perio.  But  just  about  the  time  matters  had  settled  into  work- 
ing order  with  the  existing  elements,  a  militia  regiment  from 
a  neighboring  county  was  orderd  into  the  fort  for  the  pur- 
pose of  improving  and  strengthening,  as  well  as  more  fully 
manning  it.  This  regiment,  as  I  remember,  was  afterwards 
broken  up  and  the  men  entered  as  individual  recruits  in 
veteran  regiments,  as  was  the  almost  unvarying  mode  of 
recruiting  in  the  Confederate  service ;  but  at  this  time — late 
winter  of  '6i-'2,  or  early  spring  of  '62 — this  regiment  seems 
to  have  retained  its  original  organization  under  its  original 
officers.  I  have  spoken  of  it  as  a  militia  regiment,  as  we  all 
did  at  the  time,  but  I  do  not  know  what  its  real  status  was. 
The  regimental  officers  were  of  course  jealous  of  us — pri- 
vate artillery  soldiers  seeming  to  be  set  over  even  infantry 
officers,  and  the  general  being  in  the  habit  of  communicating 
with  us  directly  in  matters  concerning  the  fort  and  every- 
thing in  it.  To  add  to  the  uneasiness  and  discontent,  the 
idea  got  abroad  that  this  small  force  was  thus  isolated  with 
the  view  of  sacrificing  it  in  case  the  enemy  should  cross  over, 
to  enable  the  other  troops  to  withdraw  in  safety. 

At  one  of  the  evening  dress  parades  of  the  regiment,  at 
which  of  course  the  colonel  was  in  charge,  I  attempted,  with 
his  permission,  to  show  the  absurdity  of  this  rumor,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  pour  oil  generally  on  the  troubled  waters ; 
but  a  little  before  midnight  one  of  my  Mississippians,  "Buck 
Denman,"  a  man  marked  even  among  those  heroes  for  cour- 
age and  power,  who  was  corporal  of  the  guard  that  night, 
came  and  woke  me  up  with  the  startling  intelligence  that  the 


70  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

"melish"  were  formed  and  about  to  leave  the  fort.  I  rose 
instantly  and  ordered  Denman  to  call  out  his  entire  squad 
and  have  them  rendezvous  at  once  at  the  outlet  of  the  fort 
with  loaded  muskets. 

He  yelled  like  a  Comanche  as  he  sprang  to  execute  the 
order,  and  by  the  time  I  reached  the  centre  of  the  parade, 
passing  by  the  head  of  the  regiment  on  the  way,  the  bear 
hunters  were  at  their  posts  "loaded  for  b'ar"  or  "melish," 
as  the  case  might  be,  and  shouting  for  the  battle.  The 
"colonel  commanding"  hesitated  what  command  to  give,  and 
I  at  once  assumed  his  place  and  did  not  hesitate.  The  men 
were  in  column  and  ready  to  march  out,  but  they  front- 
faced  readily  at  my  command,  and  I  briefly  laid  the  situation 
before  them,  emphasizing — but  never  mind  what  I  empha- 
sized, the  moon  gave  light  enough  to  shed  a  gleam  on  the 
musket  barrels  of  the  Mississippians  formed  right  across  the 
only  outlet,  and  these  added  the  emphasis ;  but  I  did  appeal 
also  to  the  better  judgment  and  better  feeling  of  the  men 
and  closed  with  an  invitation  to  their  colonel  to  call  on 
General  Hill  with  me  in  the  morning. 

While  I  was  speaking  I  noticed  immediately  in  front  of 
me,  standing  on  a  sort  of  irregular  front  line  of  officers,  a 
remarkable  and  grotesque  figure.  He  was  a  tall,  gaunt  man, 
dressed  in  an  old  Continental  uniform  or  something  very 
like  it.  I  recall  the  cocked  hat,  blue,  buff-faced  coat,  of  that 
cut,  fa'-top  boots,  and  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand  of  about 
the  length  and  model  of  a  scythe  blade.  It  was  not  a  very 
bright  night,  but  his  whole  attitude  showed  absorbed  and 
sympathetic  attention.  I  had  hardly  ceased  when  he  stepped 
briskly  toward  me,  saluted,  wheeled  and  faced  the  regiment 
and  his,  the  leading  company,  and  uttered,  in  quite  a  sol- 
dierly tone,  just  these  words :  "Snickersville  Blues,  fall  out ! 
Mr.  Stiles  is  right,  and  I  am  going  to  stand  by  him!"  The 
example  was  contagious,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  strained 
situation  was  entirely  relieved. 

In  the  morning  General  Hill  decided  that  I  was  right, 
commended  the  course  I  had  pursued,  and  said  he  would 
send  for  a  commission  for  me  (which  I  presume  he  forgot)  ; 
but  suggested  that  it  might  interest  and  conciliate  the  regi- 


FROM  MANASSAS  TO  LEESBURG  7 1 

ment  if  we  would  pick  out  two  or  three  detachments  and 
drill  them  in  the  manual  of  the  heavy  pieces.  We  did  so 
with  admirable  result,  of  course  offering  to  the  gallant  cap- 
tain of  the  "Snickersville  Blues"  the  place  of  gunner  of  the 
first  detachment.  The  old  fellow,  whose  name  I  think  was 
Moore,  took  the  greatest  interest  and  delight  in  the  drill  and 
showed  some  proficiency  at  it;  so  that  in  a  few  days  he 
asked  me  to  allow  him  to  drill  his  detachment  before  Gen- 
eral Hill,  who  rode  out  almost  every  evening  to  see  how 
we  were  getting  on.  I  never  saw  anything  quite  so  irresist- 
ibly funny  as  Moore's  dress  and  bearing  as  he  formed  his 
detachment,  marched  them  to  the  gun  and  put  them  in  po- 
sition about  it.  He  got  on  fairly  well  until  a  primer  failed 
and  he  could  not  recall  the  appropriate  command — "Don't 
advance,  the  primer  has  failed !" 

As  No.  2  first  hesitated  and  then  started  to  advance, 
Moore,  gasping  with  excitement  and  stretching  out  his  right 
arm  deprecatingly  toward  the  cannoneer,  blurted  out,  "Don't 
go  up,  the  thing's  busted !"  Of  course  there  was  an  explo- 
sion, though  not  of  the  primer,  but  as  Moore  seemed  so 
genuinely  mortified,  it  was  soon  hushed.  General  Hill  seem- 
ed to  appreciate  the  situation,  and  assured  the  gunner  that 
his  improvised  command  answered  every  purpose  and  was 
far  preferable,  in  such  an  emergency,  to  not  saying  anything 
because  unable  to  recall  exactly  what  to  say. 

Soon  after  this,  in  the  early  spring  of  '62,  the  General  di- 
rected us  to  have  a  large  number  of  flannel  powder  bags 
made  up,  a  few  for  the  heavy  guns,  but  most  of  them  of  a 
size  suited  to  our  field  pieces,  and  gave  such  additional 
orders  as  satisfied  me  that  the  army  was  about  to  abandon  its 
present  lines  and  take  position  somewhere  in  the  low  coun- 
try near  Richmond.  The  young  ladies  of  Leesburg  had  of- 
fered repeatedly  to  do  anything  they  could  for  us,  and  so 
we  held,  for  several  successive  nights,  a  regular  sewing  bee 
over  these  powder  bags,  which,  as  fast  as  made,  were  taken 
up  to  Fort  Johnston  and  filled  in  the  magazine  there.  We 
had  a  lively,  lovely  time,  making  the  bags,  but  I  felt  all  the 
while  as  if  I  were  guilty  of  the  vilest  deception;  for  of 
course  these  sweet  girls  were  led  to  believe  these  powder 


72  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

bags  were  to  be  used  in  their  defense,  while  I  well  knew  we 
would  abandon  them  to  their  fate  about  as  soon  as  the  bags 
were  finished,  filled,  and  packed  for  transport.  At  last  the 
time  for  our  departure  actually  came,  and  a  sad  leave-taking 
it  was,  for  some  of  these  dear  people  had  treated  us  as  no 
strangers  were  ever  treated  before;  and  besides,  we  all  felt 
not  only  the  pain  of  parting  but  also  something  akin  to  the 
disgrace  of  desertion. 

With  D.  H.  Hill,  worship  of  Stonewall  Jackson  held  a 
place  next  after  and  close  alongside  his  religion.  He  had  the 
greatest  admiration  for  Jackson's  genius  and  the  greatest 
confidence  in  his  future.  He  honored  me  with  frequent  and 
sometimes  very  extended  interviews ;  and  as  there  was  noth- 
ing else  he  so  much  delighted  to  talk  about  or  I  to  hear,  I 
absorbed  much  that  prepared  me  for  his  brother-in-law's 
marvelous  career.  Even  at  that  early  day,  Hill  predicted 
that  if  the  war  should  last  six  years  and  Jackson  live  so  long, 
he  would  be  in  supreme  command. 

It  is  fair  to  add  that  the  pure  white  star  of  Robert  Lee 
had  not  yet  fairly  appeared  above  the  Southern  horizon. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  PENINSULA  CAMPAIGN. 

Reenlistment  and  Reorganization  in  the  Spring  of  '62 — Gen.  McClellan 
— The  Peninsula  Lines — The  Texans — The  Battle  of  Williamsburg 
—The  Mud. 

We  left  Leesburg  about  the  7th  of  March,  '62,  for  Cul- 
peper  C.  H.,  which  was  the  place  of  rendezvous  of  the  army 
before  taking  up  the  line  of  march  for  the  Peninsula, 
whither  we  were  ordered  to  repair  to  meet  McClellan.  Only- 
two  things  of  interest  occurred  on  the  way — the  reenlistment 
and  reorganization  of  the  battery  and  a  hurried  glimpse  at 
our  friends  in  Richmond.  The  former,  as  I  remember,  took 
place  at  or  near  Culpeper  C.  H.,  about  the  15th  of  March, 
and  deserves  more  than  casual  mention. 

In  the  spring  of  1862,  throughout  our  service,  the  men  re- 
enlisting  were  allowed  to  elect  their  own  officers ;  so  that  for 
weeks  about  this  time  the  army,  and  that  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy,  was  resolved — it  is  the  highest  proof  of  its  patriot- 
ism and  character  that  it  was  not  also  dissolved — into  nomi- 
nating caucuses  and  electioneering  meetings.  This  compli- 
ment, by  the  way,  is  as  well  deserved  by  the  men  voluntarily 
reenlisting  and  electing  their  own  officers,  on  the  Federal  side 
as  the  Confederate,  if,  as  I  presume,  the  same  system  was 
adopted  by  the  Federals. 

I  do  not  say  this  is  not  the  usual  mode  of  organizing  a 
volunteer  army,  at  least  in  this  country ;  nor  do  I  deny  that 
the  result  was  better,  on  the  average,  than  might  have  been 
anticipated,  but  it  was  bad  enough.  Our  friend,  Gen.  D.  H. 
Hill,  in  a  report  of  a  little  later  date,  says,  "The  reorganiza- 
tion of  the  army,  at  Yorktown  under  the  elective  system,  had 
thrown  out  of  service  many  of  our  best  officers  and  had 
much  demoralized  our  army." 


74  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

In  short,  the  selection  of  military  officers  by  the  elective 
method  is  a  monstrosity,  an  utter  reversal  of  the  essential 
spirit  of  military  appointment  and  promotion.  It  ought  to 
be  enough  to  immortalize  it  as  such  that,  about  the  time  of 
or  soon  after  the  original  enlistments,  the  men  of  one  of  the 
Virginia  regiments,  in  the  exercise  of  their  volunteer  right 
to  choose  their  officers,  protested  successfully  against  the 
assignment  of  General,  then  Colonel,  Jackson  to  command 
them. 

It  is  fair  also  to  add  that  the  result,  in  the  case  of  our  own 
company — as  I  have  abundantly  shown  an  exceptionally  in- 
telligent corps, — so  far  as  the  newly-elected  captain  was  con- 
cerned, could  not  have  been  more  satisfactory,  as  he  was  a 
man  of  the  noblest  nature  and  every  inch  a  soldier.  But 
this  was  not  by  any  means  the  case  with  all  the  officers  elected 
by  us.  Our  two  preceding  captains  were  promoted,  the  one 
to  be  colonel  commanding  "Camp  Lee" — the  camp  of  in- 
struction at  Richmond — and  the  other,  at  a  later  date,  to 
be  surgeon  of  that  post,  with  rank  of  major. 

We  seemed  to  be  in  no  sort  of  hurry  to  get  at  McClellan ; 
that  is,  we  took  our  time  on  the  road,  feeling  sure,  from  past 
experience,  that  he  would  take  his.  Our  army  and  people 
invariably  regarded  that  general  as  "an  officer  and  a  gentle- 
man" and  a  fine  soldier,  too,  except  that  he  was  a  little  slow 
and  prone  to  see  double  as  to  the  number  of  his  foes.  The 
Richmond  Examiner }  by  far  the  most  vigorous  journal  pub- 
lished in  the  South  during  the  war,  epitomized  "little  Mac" 
in  the  following  graphic  sentence,  "Accustomed  in  peace  to 
the  indecent  haste  of  railroad  travel,  McClellan  adopted  in 
war  the  sedate  tactics  of  the  mud  turtle."  He  certainly  did 
seem  to  have  a  penchant  for  mud,  Peninsula  mud,  Chicka- 
hominy  mud,  James  River  mud — any  sort  of  mud;  but  he 
was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  "sling"  any  of  it,  even  at 
us  "rebels." 

The  only  point  of  the  march  down  at  which  we  were  made 
to  hurry  was  the  only  one  at  which  we  would  have  de- 
murred to  doing  so  if  it  would  have  done  any  good,  and  that 
was  Richmond,  where,  as  I  remember,  we  arrived  about  the 
ioth  of  April,  and  left  by  steamer  down  James  River  a  day 


THE  PENINSULA  CAMPAIGN  75 

or  two  later.  I  remember,  too,  that  as  the  boat  left  the 
shouting  thousands  on  the  shore  and  swept  out  into  the 
stream  our  glee  club  burst  into  the  rollicking  stanzas  of 
"Mynheer  von  Dunck" — a  song  as  good  in  verse  and  in 
music  as  it  is  bad  in  morals : 

"Mynheer  von  Dunck, 

Though  he  never  got  drunk, 

Sipped  brandy  and  water  gaily; 

And  he  quenched  his  thirst 

With  two  quarts  of  the  first 

To  a  pint  of  the  latter,  daily. 

Water  well  mingled  with  spirit,  good  store, 

No  Hollander  dreams  of  scorning; 

But  of  water  alone  he  drinks  no  more 

Than  the  rose  supplies 

When  the  dew  drop  lies 

On  its  bloom  of  a  summer  morning — 

For  a  Dutchman's  draft  should  potent  be, 

Though  deep  as  the  rolling  Zuyder  Zee." 

And  as  we  steamed  out  of  hearing  of  the  pier  the  stout 
voices  of  the  singers  were  publishing,  with  metrical  and  mu- 
sical elaboration,  the  somewhat  shady  proposition  that — 

"A  pretty  girl  who  gets  a  kiss  and  runs  and  tells  her  mother, 
Does  what  she  should  not  do  and  don't  deserve  another." 

These  revelling,  rollicking  songs  came  later  to  be  prime 
favorites  with  sundry  brigadier,  major  and  even  lieutenant- 
generals  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and  they  cheer- 
ed, too,  many  a  comfortless  camp  and  relieved  many  a 
weary  march  of  the  old  battery. 

In  due  time  we  made  our  landing  and  found  our  place  in 
the  peninsular  lines  of  Yorktown  and  Warwick  River,  which 
were  admirably  adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which  General 
Magruder  designed  and  located  them;  namely,  to  enable  a 
small  body  of  troops  to  hold  the  position — but  for  occupa- 
tion by  a  large  army  they  were  simply  execrable.  There  was 
scarcely  solid  ground  enough  accessible  to  afford  standing, 
sleeping,  or  living  room  for  the  men. 


J  6  FOUR  YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

Our  boys  had  their  first  taste  of  actual  war  in  these  abomi- 
nable lines.  Soon  after  our  arrival  the  enemy  attempted  a 
crossing  in  force.  Our  guns  -being  called  for,  we  made  an 
inspiring  rush  for  the  point  of  attack  and  were  loudly  cheered 
by  the  long  lines  of  waiting  infantry  as  we  thundered  by 
with  our  horses  at  a  wild  gallop.  We  got  in  only  at  the  end 
of  the  fight,  but  our  pieces  were  soon  placed  in  the  works 
and  in  situations  about  as  trying  as  any  we  ever  occupied. 
Our  positions  were  commanded  by  those  on  the  other  side, 
our  earth-works  were  utterly  insufficient,  we  were  heavily 
outnumbered  in  guus,  and  the  Federal  sharpshooters  were  as 
audacious  and  deadly  as  I  ever  saw  them.  For  the  most 
part  they  were  concealed  in  the  tops  of  tall  pine  trees  and 
had  down  shots  upon  us,  against  which  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  protect  ourselves.  When  we  attempted  to  do  so 
by  digging  holes  back  of  and  beneath  our  works,  the  water 
rose  in  them  and  drove  us  out.  Then,  too,  the  enemy  had 
opposite  to  us  several  rapid-firing  guns  of  the  earlier  models, 
which  we  dubbed  "the  hopper  mine,"  "the  putty  machine," 
etc.,  and  which  ground  out  a  stream  of  bullets  almost  equal 
to  the  fire  of  a  line  of  battle.  The  guns  were  not,  how- 
ever, really  effective,  and  I  do  not  recall  ever  encounter- 
ing them  again.  But  our  boys  showed  excellent  pluck  and 
did  some  fine  shooting,  dismounting  one  of  the  guns  of  a 
Rhode  Island  battery  which  we  had  the  luck  of  meeting  sev- 
eral times  during  the  war. 

The  only  relief  we  had  from  the  sharpshooters  was  when 
the  marvelous  Texan  scouts  got  to  work  upon  them,  which 
was  as  often  as  their  "impudence"  got  to  be  unbearable. 
This  was  the  first  time  we  had  met  those  greatest  of  all  sol- 
diers, the  Texas  brigade.  I  question  whether  any  body  of 
troops  ever  received  such  a  compliment  as  General  Lee  paid 
them  in  his  letter  to  Senator  Wigfall,  written  later  in  the 
war,  in  which  he  asked  him,  if  possible,  to  go  to  Texas  and 
raise  another  such  brigade  for  his  army.  He  said  that  the 
efficiency  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  would  be  there- 
by increased  to  an  incalculable  extent,  and  that  he  would  be 
relieved  of  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  calling  on  this  one 
brigade  so  often  in  critical  junctures.     I  have  not  the  letter 


THE  PENINSULA   CAMPAIGN  77 

before  me,  but  I  have  read  it  several  times  and  feel  substan- 
tially sure  of  its  contents. 

In  the  present  instance  the  work  of  these  worthies  appeared 
little  less  than  miraculous.  They  were  apparently  uncon- 
scious of  danger  and  seemed  to  bear  charmed  lives.  When 
the  pressure  of  the  Federal  sharpshooters  became  intolerable, 
the  Texans  would  pass  the  word  that  it  was  time  to  go  out 
"squirrel  shooting."  Then  they  would  get  up,  yawn  and 
stretch  a  little,  load  their  rifles  and  take  to  the  water,  disap- 
pearing from  view  in  the  brush.  Then  everything  would  be 
still  a  few  minutes ;  then  two  or  three  shots,  and  the  sputter 
of  the  sharpshooters  would  cease.  After  a  while  the  Texans 
would  straggle  back,  and  report  how  many  "squirrels"  they 
had  got. 

Notwithstanding  this  relief,  or  it  may  have  been  for  the 
lack  of  it, — for  our  guns  were  separated  by  considerable  dis- 
tances,— one  of  our  detachments  broke  down  utterly  from 
nervous  tension  and  lack  of  rest.  I  went  in  as  one  of  the 
relief  party  to  bring  them  out  and  take  their  places.  It  was, 
of  course,  after  nightfall,  and  some  of  these  poor  lads  were 
sobbing  in  their  broken  sleep,  like  a  crying  child  just  before 
it  sinks  to  rest.  It  was  really  pathetic.  The  men  actually 
had  to  be  supported  to  the  ambulances  sent  down  to  bring 
them  away. 

Amongst  the  unpleasant  experiences  of  these  lines  were  the 
night  attacks,  or  perhaps,  to  speak  more  accurately,  I  should 
say,  the  night  alarms.  Down  in  these  swamps  at  night  it  was 
incredibly  dark  and  musketry  never  roared  and  reverberated 
as  terribly  anywhere  else.  These  exhibitions  reached  the 
dignity  at  least  of  fully  developed  "alarms."  Especially  was 
this  the  case  when,  one  black  night,  a  sudden  outburst  of 
fire — infantry,  artillery,  machine  guns  and  all — stampeded 
a  working  party  of  some  two  hundred  negroes  who  had  just 
begun  the  much-needed  strengthening  of  our  very  inadequate 
fortifications.  The  working  party  not  only  fled  themselves, 
but  the  frantic  fugitives  actually  swept  away  with  them  a 
part  of  our  infantry  support. 

I  was  sent  back  to  the  drivers'  camp  to  see  that  the  horses 
were  harnessed  and  ready  in  case  it  should  be  necessary  to 


78  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

withdraw  our  pieces,  and  I  met  a  line  or  mass  of  troops  ad- 
vancing to  our  support.  Hearing  some  one  call  "Stiles !"  I 
asked,  "Who  said  'Stiles'  and  who  are  you  speaking  to  ?"  A 
voice  answered,  "I  called  Stiles,"  and  another,  close  beside 
me,  said,  "He's  speaking  to  me.  Stiles  is  my  name.  I'm 
Capt.  Edward  Stiles,  of  Savannah,  Georgia."  I  grasped  his 
hand,  unable  to  see  him,  and  having  only  time  to  say,  "Then 
I'm  your  cousin,  Robert  Stiles,  of  Richmond,  Virginia. 
Look  you  up  to-morrow."  Until  that  moment  I  did  not 
know  I  had  a  relative  in  the  Virginia  army,  knowing  that 
some  and  supposing  that  all  of  my  cousins  were  in  the  armies 
of  the  coast  defense. 

It  was,  of  course,  well  understood  by  all  of  us  that  the 
Federal  commander,  having  complete  control  of  the  naviga- 
ble rivers,  by  virtue  of  his  overwhelming  naval  power,  could 
at  any  time  turn  either  of  our  flanks  or  land  a  heavy  force 
between  us  and  Richmond,  and  that  therefore  our  present  line 
could  not  be  a  permanent  one.  We  were  not  surprised,  then, 
at  receiving  orders,  about  the  2d  of  May,  to  withdraw  and 
march  toward  Richmond,  which  we  did. 

The  enemy  followed,  but  not  vigorously.  My  recollection 
is  that  our  company  was  the  rear  battery  during  the  next 
day  and  that  we  several  times  unlimbered  our  pieces,  but 
never  fired  a  shot ;  so  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  May  found  us 
on  the  Richmond  side  of  Williamsburg,  hitched  up  and 
ready  to  fall  in  behind  our  brigade.  We  heard  firing  in  the 
rear,  but  thought  little  of  it  until  a  mounted  officer  rode  up 
with  orders  from  competent  authority  to  bring  up  as  rapidly 
as  possible  the  first  battery  he  could  find  ready  hitched  up, 
and  so  we  passed  rapidly  back  through  Williamsburg,  and 
became  at  once  hotly  engaged,  doing  good  service,  as  we  also 
did  the  next  day.  Indeed  our  action  the  first  evening  might, 
without  much  strain,  be  termed  "distinguished.''  The  enemy, 
under  a  heavy  fire  from  our  battery  and  another,  abandoned 
a  three-inch  rifled  gun  and  a  caisson  of  ammunition,  and  the 
general  at  whose  orders  we  had  entered  the  fight  calling  for 
volunteers  to  bring  them  into  our  lines,  our  boys  volunteered 
and  brought  them  off  the  field,  using  the  captured  gun  with 
fine  effect  the  following  day. 


THE   PENINSULA    CAMPAIGN  79 

Williamsburg  was  not  in  any  sense  a  decisive  battle,  per- 
haps not  designed  to  be  so  on  either  side.  Upon  our  side 
certainly,  perhaps  upon  both  sides,  it  accomplished  its  limited 
purpose,  which  upon  our  part  was  to  let  General  McClellan 
see  that  it  would  not  be  well  for  him  to  seriously  interfere 
with  or  molest  us  in  our  "change  of  base,"  or  "retreat,"  if 
one  prefers  that  term,  though,  as  above  remarked,  it  cannot 
be  contended  that  the  line  we  were  leaving  could  ever  have 
been  designed  for  permanent  occupation. 

It  is  obvious,  I  say,  that  McClellan  did  learn  the  lesson 
we  intended ;  for  after  Williamsburg  our  army  was  allowed 
to  pursue  its  march  very  leisurely  up  the  peninsula — a  con- 
siderable part  of  it  stopping  to  finish  the  reenlistment  and 
reorganization  by  the  election  of  new  officers. 

But  it  is  not  a  satisfactory  battle  to  contemplate,  because 
the  administering  of  this  lesson  cost  too  much  in  blood,  and 
this  because,  as  so  often  happens,  some  one  blundered.  Col. 
Richard  L.  Maury — son  of  Commodore  M.  F.  Maury — and 
an  exceptionally  intelligent  officer,  who  at  the  close  of  the 
fight  commanded  the  Twenty-fourth  Virginia,  Early's  old 
regiment,  the  colonel  and  lieutenant-colonel  having  been 
shot  down — has  written  a  brief  but  strong  memoir  on  this 
battle,  from  which  it  would  seem  well  nigh  impossible  to 
draw  any  other  conclusions. 

He  makes  substantially  the  following  points : 

General  Magruder  had  built,  and  was  commended  for 
building,  a  chain  of  redoubts  across  the  Peninsula  from  the 
York  to  the  James,  as  a  second  line ;  Fort  Magruder,  a  strong 
closed  work,  about  a  mile  from  Williamsburg,  on  the  main 
road  running  down  the  Peninsula,  being  the  key  of  the  entire 
line.  The  battle  was  fought  in  and  from  these  fortifications, 
we  occupying  Fort  Magruder,  but,  incredible  as  it  may  seem, 
not  occupying  the  other  works,  and  not  even  those  within  a 
short  distance  of  the  main  road  along  which  lay  our  route 
to  Richmond.  Indeed  General  Hancock  was  allowed,  with- 
out firing  a  shot,  to  possess  himself  of  one  or  more  of  these 
works,  and  yet  the  heaviest  loss  in  the  action  was  entailed  in 
the  attempt  to  dislodge  Hancock,  which  failed.  Several  of 
the  general  officers,  by  whose  apparent  neglect  all  this  hap- 


80  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

pened,  have  publicly,  defended  themselves  by  stating  that 
they  did  not  know  and  were  not  informed  as  to  the  location 
of  these  works.  It  seems  to  go  without  saying  that  they 
ought  to  have  been  informed.  Furthermore,  it  is  evident  that 
if  a  single  general  officer  upon  our  side  was  fully  informed 
as  to  the  entire  line,  it  was  General  Magruder,  who  built  it, 
and  who,  it  seems,  took  no  part  in  this  battle.  Indeed,  as  I 
remember,  he  had  been  sent  on  toward  Richmond.  As 
above  intimated,  it  would  seem  impossible  that  all  these  facts 
should  co-exist  with  prudence  and  generalship  upon  the  part 
of  all  our  leading  officers. 

There  is,  however,  one  relief  to  the  rather  sombre  picture. 
Our  troops,  whether  prudently  and  wisely  led  or  not,  cer- 
tainly fought  well.  "Hancock  the  Superb"  was  generous 
enough  to  say  that  the  Twenty-fourth  Virginia  and  the 
Fifth  North  Carolina,  the  two  regiments  which  attacked  his 
strong  force  in  its  fortified  position,  deserved  to  have  the 
word  "immortal"  inscribed  upon  their  banners. 

Two  of  the  most  vivid  pictures  in  the  gallery  of  my  mem- 
ory are  set  in  the  framing  of  this  battle — the  one  the  most 
shocking  instance  of  the  unhuman  demoraliation  of  war,  the 
other  the  most  inspiring  illustration  of  the  noblest  traits  de- 
veloped by  it. 

During  a  lull  in  the  fighting  our  guns  were  withdrawn 
and  were  in  column  parallel  to  the  road,  in  a  common  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  resting  and  awaiting  orders,  when 
a  number  of  wounded  Federal  prisoners  were  brought  up  in 
an  ambulance  and  laid  temporarily  on  the  grass,  while  a 
field  hospital  was  being  established  hard  by.  Among  them 
was  a  poor  wretch,  shot  through  the  bowels,  who  vv  as  rolling 
on  the  ground  in  excruciating  agony  and  beseeching  the  by- 
standers to  put  him  out  of  his  misery.  There  did  nut  appear 
to  be  anything  that  could  be  done  for  him,  at  least  not  in 
advance  of  the  coming  of  the  surgeons,  so  I  was  in  the  act 
of  turning  away  from  the  painful  spectacle  when  a  couple  of 
Tureos,  or  Louisiana  tigers,  the  most  rakish  and  devilish- 
looking  beings  I  ever  saw,  came  up  and  peered  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  circle  of  onlookers. 

Suddenly  one  of  them  pushed  through  the  ring,  saying: 
"Put  you  out  of  your  misery?    Certainly,  sir!"  and  before 


THE  PENINSULA   CAMPAIGN  Ol 

any  one  had  time  to  interfere,  or  even  the  faintest  idea  of  his 
intention,  brained  the  man  with  the  butt  of  his  musket ;  and 
the  bloody  club  still  in  his  hands,  looking  around  upon  the 
other  wounded  men,  added  glibly,  "Any  other  gentleman 
here'd  like  to  be  accommodated?" 

It  is  impossible  to  express  my  feelings.  I  fear  that  if  I 
had  had  a  loaded  musket  in  my  hands  I  should  have  illus- 
trated the  demoralization  of  war  a  little  further  by  shooting 
down  in  his  tracks  the  demon,  who  suddenly  disappeared,  as 
a  gasp  of  horror  escaped  the  spectators. 

For  the  honor  of  human  nature,  let  me  quickly  give  you 
the  other  picture. 

At  the  crisis  of  the  battle  we  were  stationed  in  Fort  Ma- 
gruder,  as  above  explained,  the  key  of  our  position.  I  was 
standing,  sponge-staff  in  hand,  awaiting  the  firing  of  my 
gun,  the  next  piece  to  the  left  being  a  gun  of  the  Fayette 
Artillery.  As  my  eye  fell  upon  it,  No.  i  was  sponging  out, 
No.  3,  of  course,  having  his  thumbstall  pressed  upon  the 
vent.  Suddenly  I  saw  No.  3  stoop,  clapping  his  right  hand 
upon  his  leg  below  the  knee,  and  then  I  saw  him  topple 
slowly  forward,  never,  however,  lifting  his  thumb  from  the 
vent,  but  pressing  it  down  close  and  hard — his  elbow  strain- 
ed upward  as  his  body  sank  forward  and  downward.  The 
heroic  fellow  had  been  first  shot  in  the  calf  of  the  right  leg, 
and  as  he  bent  to  feel  that  wound  a  bullet  crashed  through 
his  skull ;  but  his  last  effort  was  to  save  No.  1  from  the  loss 
of  his  hands  by  premature  explosion  as  he  rammed  home  the 
next  charge.  I  have  never  witnessed  more  sublime  faithful- 
ness unto  death  than  was  exhibited  by  the  downward  pres- 
sure of  that  thumb  as  it  was  literally  dragged  from  the  bole 
of  the  piece  by  the  weight  of  the  sinking  body  of  the  noble 
cannoneer. 

This  incident  reminds  me  of  another  which  well  illustrates 
how  receptive  and  retentive  of  pictorial  impression  are  the 
minds  of  men — especially  men  of  a  certain  type — at  mo- 
ments of  intense  excitement.  It  is  this  faculty,  in  great 
measure,  which  imparts  special  interest  and  value  to  the  per- 
sonal reminiscences  of  men  of  this  character. 

Nearly  three  years  after  the  battle  of  Williamsburg,  I 
think  in  March,  '65,  entering  the  office  of  the  provost-mar- 


82  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

shal  of  the  city  of  Richmond  for  the  first  and  only  time 
during  the  war,  I  found  an  officer,  in  a  new  uniform  of  a 
colonel  of  cavalry,  in  an  unpleasant  altercation  with  one  of 
the  employees  of  the  office.  As  I  approached  he  turned  to 
me,  saying: 

"It's  a  hard  case,  Major,  that  a  veteran  colonel  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia  is  bearded  in  this  way  by  a 
beardless  boy  of  a  provost-marshal's  clerk,  and  that  he  can- 
not have  even  the  poor  satisfaction  of  slapping  his  jaws  as  he 
is  entrenched  behind  this  partition." 

While  pouring  out  this  complaint  the  Colonel  gazed  at 
me  with  increasing  interest  and,  as  he  ceased — starting  a 
little — said  abruptly: 

"I  have  seen  you  before,  sir !" 

"Yes,  Colonel,"  I  replied,  "or  at  least,  I  have  seen  you,  and 
I  recall  just  when  and  where  it  was ;  but  as  you  are  the  rank- 
ing officer  won't  you  be  good  enough  to  say  first,  if  you  can, 
when  and  where  you  saw  me  ?" 

"Certainly,  sir,"  said  he;  "it  was  at  the  battle  of  Williams- 
burg, in  May,  '62.  You  were  then  a  private  soldier  in  an  ar- 
tillery company  and  were  standing,  bare-headed,  at  the  angle 
of  Fort  Magruder  with  a  sponge-staff  in  your  hand  as  I  led  a 
charge  of  cavalry  past  the  fort." 

My  recollection  exactly  coincided  with  his.  The  officer, 
I  think,  was  Col.  J.  Lucius  Davis,  who  commanded  a  body  of 
Virginia  troops  at  Charlestown  or  Harper's  Ferry  during  the 
John  Brown  raid ;  but,  whoever  he  was,  he  was  not  a  colonel 
at  Williamsburg,  but  I  think  a  captain ;  and,  as  I  remember, 
then  wore  a  brown-gray  tunic  belted  around  his  waist,  and 
his  hair,  which  was  then  quite  long,  swept  back  from  his 
forehead  as  he  gallantly  led  his  men,  sabre  in  hand,  at  full 
speed  against  the  enemy. 

We  never  met  save  on  the  two  occasions  mentioned  and 
could  not  possibly  have  seen  each  other  at  Williamsburg 
more  than  a  moment.  The  rank,  dress,  bearing — everything, 
indeed,  save  the  essential  personality  of  the  two  men — was 
entirely  different  at  the  two  meetings,  and  yet  neither  of  us 
felt  the  slightest  hesitation  as  to  mutual  identification  or  the 
time,  place,  and  circumstances  of  the  first  meeting. 


THE  PENINSULA   CAMPAIGN  83 

The  one  feature  of  the  march  up  the  Peninsula  was  mud. 
Even  the  great  "Mud  turtle"  himself  must  have  been  satiated 
with  it.  As  for  me,  I  had  never  imagined  anything  approxi- 
mating to  it.  The  ground  had  been  saturated  by  recent 
heavy  rains,  which  seemed  to  have  brought  down  with  them 
myriads  of  diminutive  green  frogs,  the  only  living  organ- 
isms, except  of  course  the  mud  turtle,  which  could  enjoy  the 
big  lob-lolly  puddles  into  which  the  road-bed  had  been  churn- 
ed by  the  multitude  of  houghs  and  wheels  and  the  feet  of  the 
trampling  thousands.  Our  company  wagon,  containing  a 
present  supply  of  commissary  and  quartermaster  stores  and 
all  our  extra  clothing,  sank  to  the  hubs  and  had  to  be  aban- 
doned. We  feared  for  the  guns  and  could  not  think  of  wast- 
ing teams  on  wagons.  The  danger  was  really  imminent  that 
the  guns  themselves  would  have  to  be  abandoned,  and  the 
captain  instructed  me  to  have  at  hand  a  haversack  with 
hammer  and  spikes  and  to  keep  near  the  rear  of  the  battery, 
and  if  a  gun  could  not  be  dragged  through  the  mud,  then  to 
"spike  it"  as  thoroughly  as  I  could,  slip  the  trunnions  from 
the  sockets  and  let  the  piece  drop  into  the  deepest  mud  I 
could  find,  and  mark  the  spot.  By  dint,  however,  of  fine 
driving,  and  heavy  lifting  and  shoving  at  the  wheels,  we 
managed  to  save  our  brazen  war  dogs,  for  which  we  were  be- 
ginning to  feel  a  strong  attachment. 

The  poor  horses  often  sank  to  their  bellies,  and  we  were 
several  times  compelled  to  unhitch  a  stalled  horse,  tie  a  pro- 
longe  around  him,  hitch  the  rest  of  the  team  to  the  rope  and 
drag  him  out.  I  mean  just  what  I  say  when  I  aver  that  I 
saw  a  team  of  mules  disappear,  every  hair,  under  the  mud,  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.  Of  course  they  had  first  fallen,  in 
their  impotent  efforts  to  extricate  themselves,  and  they  aft- 
erwards arose  and  emerged  from  their  baptism  of  mud,  at 
once  the  most  melancholy  and  the  most  ludicrous-looking 
objects  that  could  be  imagined.  It  was  wretched,  and  yet 
it  had  its  funny  side. 

We  mounted  upon  the  gun  and  caisson  horses,  for  the 
emergency,  the  very  best  men,  regard  being  had  to  the  single 
requisite  of  skill  and  experience  in  handling  draft  horses 
and  heavy  loads,  and  no  regard  whatever  as  to  whether  or 


84  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

not  they  had  theretofore  been  battery  drivers.  In  this  way 
it  happened  that  two  of  the  finest  soldiers  in  the  command 
were  driving  at  my  gun,  the  one  the  wheel  team  and  the 
other  the  lead,  there  being  at  the  time  six  horses  to  the 
piece.  It  was  stalled,  and  two  or  three  unsuccessful  efforts 
having  been  made  to  start  it,  the  wheel  driver  declared  that 
it  was  the  fault  of  the  leader.  The  latter  retorted,  and  the 
war  of  words  waxed  hot,  until  suddenly  the  wheel  charioteer 
dismounted  in  the  thigh-deep  mud  and,  struggling  up  abreast 
of  the  lead  team,  dared  the  driver  of  it  to  get  down  and  fight 
it  out  then  and  there.  It  is  possible  the  other  would  have 
accepted  the  challenge  if  a  glance  down  at  his  friend  and 
foe  had  not  brought  the  absurdity  of  the  entire  thing  so 
vividly  before  him  that  he  simply  threw  his  head  back  in  a 
burst  of  laughter,  saying,  "Why  Billy,  you  must  take  me 
for  an  infernal  fool,  to  expect  me  to  get  down  in  that  infer- 
nal mud  to  fight  you!"  Whereupon  the  gentleman  in  the 
mud  laughed,  too,  as  did  everybody  within  sight  and  hear- 
ing, and  Billy  struggled  back  to  his  wheelers,  remounted,  and 
with  "a  long  pull,  a  strong  pull,  and  a  pull  altogether" — out 
she  came. 

Another  gentleman — he  who  had  "resigned"  when  all 
trunks  were  sent  to  the  rear  from  Manassas — having  gotten 
at  the  company  wagon  this  day,  just  before  it  was  aban- 
doned, had  on  a  beautiful  new  suit  of  "Crenshaw  gray,"  and, 
thus  arrayed,  was  making  a  perilous  passage  out  in  the  woods 
parallel  to  the  road,  dodging  behind  the  big  pine  trees  and 
springing  from  tussock  to  tussock  of  swamp  grass  and 
bushes.  The  boys  had  been  watching  him  for  some  time, 
but  he  begged  so  hard,  by  cabalistic  signs,  that  they  had  not 
"told  on  him."  But  finally  the  lieutenant  saw  him  and  called 
to  him  to  come  and  get  in  the  mud  and  help  start  a  stalled 
gun.  Of  course  he  had  to  come,  but  he  came  very  slowly, 
meanwhile  beseeching  the  boys  to  "put  on  a  little  more  steam 
and  get  the  gun  out !" 

But  the  fellows  had  now  come  to  appreciate  the  fun  of 
the  thing,  as  had  also  the  lieutenant,  and  he  ordered  them 
to  do  nothing  until  Jim  should  get  down  in  the  mud  with 
them.    He  wriggled  and  squirmed,  his  comrades  standing  in 


THE  PENINSULA   CAMPAIGN  85 

the  mud  about  the  gun  jeering  and  jibing  at  him,  as  he 
mounted  and  walked  upon  a  big  pine  log  which  projected  out 
to  the  slough  of  despond  in  which  the  gun  was  stuck,  till,  get- 
ting about  squarely  over  it,  he  stopped  and  begged  once 
more ;  but  the  boys  shouted  derisively,  and  the  lieutenant  call- 
ed out,  "Get  down  to  it,  sir ;  nobody's  going  to  shove  a  pound 
until  you  get  in  and  shove  with  the  rest !"  Poor  Jim !  He 
lifted  his  foot  and  stamped  it  down  in  vexation  on  the  wet 
bark,  which  parted  and  slipped  from  the  smooth,  slick  bole 
of  the  tree,  and  down  came  Jim,  with  a  great  splash  like  the 
mules,  hide  and  hair  and  Crenshaw  gray,  all  into  and  under 
the  mud.  I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  such  a  shout  as  greeted 
this  "knight  of  the  sorrowful  figure"  as  he  emerged,  from  his 
thighs  up,  the  liquid  mud  dripping  from  every  part  of  the 
upper  half  of  his  person.  But  it  cured  him  and  his  suit  as 
well,  the  beautiful  Crenshaw  gray  thenceforward  exhibiting 
a  sickly,  jaundiced,  butter-nut  hue,  like  the  clothes  some 
backwoods  cracker  regiments  wore  when  they  first  came  to 
Virginia. 

Only  one  other  feature  of  our  march  up  the  Peninsula 
merits  notice,  and  that  was  our  almost  actual  starvation  on 
the  way.  The  cause  of  this  was  separation  from  our  brigade, 
which  was  probably  ten  miles  from  Williamsburg  before  we 
were  ordered  to  follow.  In  the  condition  of  the  roads  al- 
ready described,  catching  up  with  any  particular  body  of 
troops  was  of  course  out  of  the  question.  We  really  had 
nothing  to  eat  for  two  days  and  nights,  except,  that,  as  we 
were  compelled  to  impress  corn  for  the  horses — of  course 
old,  hard  corn — we  roasted  a  little  of  it  for  ourselves. 

On  the  third  day  we  overhauled  a  commissary  train,  in  a 
by-road  we  were  traveling  to  escape  the  jam  and  the  mud, 
and  Captain  McCarthy,*  making  known  the  extreme  need  of 
his  men,  begged  rations  enough  to  give  them  just  one  meal ; 
but  the  officer  in  charge  answered : 

"I  cannot  issue  you  anything,  Captain,  except  upon  the 
order  of  General  Griffith,  your  brigadier,  or  my  commanding 
officer." 

To  which  our  captain  replied : 

"General  Griffith  is  somewhere  between  here  and  Rich- 
mond, I  don't  know  where  your  commanding  officer  is ;  but 


86  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

if  you  can't  give  me  anything,  except  upon  the  order  of  one 
of  these  two  officers,  then  I  can  take  what  my  men  need,  on 
my  own  order,  and  I'll  do  it.  Here,  boys,  drive  a  gun  up  here 
in  the  road  ahead  of  this  train,  unlimber  it  and  load  it.  Now, 
sir,  you  shan't  pass  here  without  issuing  three  days'  rations 
for  my  men;  but  I'll  give  you  a  written  statement  of  what 
has  occurred,  signed  by  me !" 

We  sprang  with  a  shout  to  execute  the  Captain's  order, 
and  in  a  few  moments  had  our  three  days'  rations,  cooking 
them  in  the  few  utensils  we  always  kept  with  us,  and  soon 
made  a  good  square  meal.  I  suppose  Captain  McCarthy's 
conduct  was  deemed  justifiable,  as  no  notice  of  a  court- 
martial  or  a  court  of  inquiry  was  ever  served  upon  him. 

It  was,  however,  some  days  before  the  supply  departments 
were  thoroughly  organized,  after  the  disorganization  and 
paralysis  of  the  fearful  mud  deluge,  and  meanwhile  not  only 
did  we  artillerymen  once  more  come  down  to  hard  pan  and 
hard  corn,  but  one  evening  General  Griffith,  who  was  a 
charming  gentleman,  rode  over  to  where  our  battery  was 
parked,  saying  to  our  captain  that  he  came  to  beg  three  fa- 
vors— a  couple  of  ears  of  corn  for  himself,  a  feed  for  his 
horse,  and  a  song  from  our  Glee  Club — to  all  of  which  he 
was  made  royally  welcome,  and  he  sat  right  down  about  our 
camp  fire  and  roasted  and  ate  his  corn  with  us. 

The  boys  used  to  say,  "ten  ears  to  a  horse,  two  to  a  man — 
which  shows  that  a  horse  is  equal  to  five  men."  Later  in  the 
war  this  ratio  was  practically  vindicated,  for  the  supply  of 
horses  got  to  be  in  every  sense  a  prime  necessity  with  the 
field  artillery  of  the  Confederate  armies.  Many  a  time,  dur- 
ing the  campaign  of  '64,  have  I  heard  artillery  officers  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia — belonging  to  different  corps — 
meeting  for  the  first  time  after  heavy  fighting,  in  which  the 
commands  of  both  had  been  engaged,  exchange  some  such 
greeting  as  this : 

"Well,  old  fellow,  how  did  you  come  out?  How  many 
horses  did  you  lose?    Lose  any  men?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

SEVEN   PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS'   BATTLES 

Joseph  E.  Johnston — The  Change  of  Commanders — Lee's  Plan  of  the 
Seven  Days'  Battles — Rainsford — the  Pursuit — Playing  at  Lost  Ball 
— "Little  Mac's  Lost  the  Thrigger" — Early  Dawn  on  a  Battle-field — 
Lee  and  Jackson. 

I  turn  back  a  moment  to  the  mud  and  the  march  up  the 
Peninsula  in  order  to  relate  a  reminiscence  illustrative  of 
several  matters  of  interest,  aside  from  the  mud,  such  as  the 
state  of  the  currency,  the  semi-quizzical  character  and  bear- 
ing of  the  Confederate  soldier  and  his  marked  respect  for 
private  property,  as  well  as  the  practical  limitations  to  that 
respect. 

The  column  had  halted  at  New  Kent  Court  House,  a  little 
hamlet  in  the  great  pine  forest,  then  and  now  boasting  not 
over  a  half  dozen  houses,  in  addition  to  the  tavern  and  the 
temple  of  justice.  The  infantry  had  broken  ranks  and  most 
of  them  were  resting  and  chatting,  seated  or  reclined  upon 
the  banks  of  the  somewhat  sunken  road.  On  one  side  had 
been  a  large  cabbage  patch  from  which  the  heads  had  been 
cut  the  preceding  fall,  leaving  the  stalks  in  the  ground,  which 
under  the  genial  spring  suns  and  rains, — it  was  the  middle 
of  May, — had  greened  out  into  what  I  think  are  termed 
"collards"  or  "sprouts."  They  were  just  what  the  soldiers 
longed  for  and  required,  and  an  enterprising  fellow  saun- 
tered up  to  the  fence  and  offered  an  old  woman,  who  stood 
near  by,  "a  dollar  for  one  of  them  green  things." 

The  price  was  fixed  not  by  the  seller  but  by  the  purchaser 
and  clearly  under  the  combined  influence  of  three  considera- 
tions :  he  thought  so  much  of  the  sprout,  and  so  little  of  the 
dollar,  and  then  that  dollar  was  probably  the  smallest  money 
he  had. 


Ob  FOUR    YEARS    UNDER    MARSE    ROBERT 

No  sooner  said  than  done,  and  by  the  time  the  fellow  paid 
his  dollar  and  began  browsing  upon  his  sprout,  the  fence, 
which  was  about  breast  high  and  a  very  flimsy  affair,  was 
lined  with  soldiers,  each  with  his  right  arm  extended  toward 
the  old  woman,  a  one-dollar  Confederate  Treasury  note 
fluttering  in  his  fingers. 

I  can  see  and  hear  them  now :  "Here,  miss,  please  let  me 
have  one;  I'm  a  heap  hungrier'n  these  other  men."  "But, 
mother,  I'm  a  sick  man  and  such  a  good  boy ;  you  ought  to 
'tend  to  me  first."  And  so  it  went;  and  so  went  the  old 
woman,  backward  and  forward,  jerking  the  sprouts  out  of 
the  ground  with  wondrous  speed,  and  as  fast  as  she  gathered 
an  armful,  striding  along  the  fence,  distributing  them  and 
raking  in  the  dollars.  I  never  witnessed  a  brisker  trade  in 
cabbage;  but  the  buyers  were  so  eager  and  the  pressure  of 
the  leaning  men  became  so  great,  that  the  fence,  the  frail 
barrier  between  "tuum  and  meum,"  suddenly  gave  way,  and 
quicker  than  I  can  tell  it  there  wasn't  a  sprout  left  in  the 
patch. 

The  men  had  no  intention  of  breaking  into  the  enclosure, 
but  Providence  having  removed  the  fence,  they  followed  up 
the  Providential  indications  by  removing  the  sprouts.  It  is 
not  easy  to  say  just  what  the  purchasing  power  of  these  dol- 
lars was,  but  at  that  comparatively  early  date  it  is  easy  to 
see  that  the  old  woman,  counting  only  the  money  she  actually 
got,  made  an  astounding  sale  of  her  entire  crop  of  sprouts. 

At  last  we  arrived  and  took  our  places  in  the  outer  line  of 
defenses  of  Richmond,  McClellan  at  first  establishing  his 
lines  behind  the  Chickahominy — his  base  of  supplies  being 
White  House,  on  York  River; — but  he  soon  threw  across, 
that  is  to  our  side,  the  Richmond  side,  of  the  Chickahominy 
River  and  swamp,  a  considerable  force,  strongly  fortifying 
its  position.  Still  it  was  manifest,  or  seemed  to  be,  that  this 
force  on  the  Richmond  sjde  was  not  strong  enough,  without 
drawing  aid  from  the  other  side,  to  repel  an  attack  by  the  en- 
tire army  of  Johnston.  The  water  in  the  swamp  suddenly 
rose  and  apparently  cut  off  communication  with  the  other 
side.  Seven  Pines  was  an  attack  upon  the  Federal  force  on 
the  Richmond  side  of  the  stream  and  swamp,  with  the  view 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS'  BATTLES  89 

of  destroying  it  while  it  could  not  be  reinforced  from  the 
main  body  beyond  the  stream,  and,  as  is  well  known,  Gen- 
eral Johnston  was  struck  down  and  totally  disabled  just  at 
the  crisis  of  the  action. 

When  the  commanding  general  of  an  army,  especially  upon 
the  attacking  side,  is  struck  down  while  his  plans  are  develop- 
ing, it  is  ordinarily  not  possible  to  say  with  confidence  what 
would  have  been  the  result  of  the  engagement  if  no  such 
calamity  had  befallen  the  attacking  force.  Seven  Pines  is 
therefore  what  may  properly  be  termed  an  indecisive,  if  not 
an  abortive  battle.  While  the  determined  fighting  on  the 
Confederate  side  probably  contributed  to  delay  a  general 
advance  by  McClellan,  thus  giving  time  for  Lee  to  get 
thorough  hold  upon  his  army,  to  acquire  their  confidence,  to 
mature  his  plans  generally,  and  in  particular  to  arrange  for 
the  withdrawal  of  Jackson  from  the  valley,  yet  it  must  be 
admitted  that,  as  to  the  main  design  of  the  Confederates,  the 
battle  was  a  failure. 

To  the  Southern  people  and  soldiers  generally  I  have  no 
doubt  that,  after  the  Seven  Days'  battles,  Seven  Pines  seem- 
ed to  measure  up  to  its  chief  significance  as  the  fight  which 
resulted  in  removing  Joseph  E.  Johnston  from  the  command 
of  the  main  army  of  the  Confederacy  and  putting  Robert  E. 
Lee  in  his  place ;  and  I  think  likely  it  did  so  present  itself  to 
me  at  the  time — indeed  such  is  my  recollection.  But  after 
the  war  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  honored  with  the  close 
and  intimate  friendship  of  General  Johnston, — closer  and 
more  intimate  than  I  ever  enjoyed  with  any  other  of  the 
great  Southern  leaders, — and  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  of 
the  man  himself  has  imparted  to  the  strange  fatality  of  his 
being  stricken  down  at  Seven  Pines,  with  the  tenth  honor- 
able wound  received  in  battle,  and  to  other  unfortunate  fea- 
tures of  his  career,  a  new  and  almost  pathetic  interest. 

I  found  him,  both  as  a  man  and  a  soldier,  to  be  very  differ- 
ent from  my  previous  estimate  of  him  and  in  every  way 
above  that  estimate;  so  that,  in  looking  upon  the  glorious 
career  of  Lee,  I  have  sometimes  felt  inclined  to  say  in  behalf 
of  my  friend  what  he  never  said  for  himself:  "Who  can 
tell  ?    It  might  have  been !"    And  I  do  here  say  of  him,  in  a 


90  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE    ROBERT 

single  sentence,  that  as  a  trained,  professional  soldier,  I  do 
not  believe  he  ever  had  his  superior,  if  indeed  his  equal,  on 
this  continent ;  while  as  a  man  he  was  one  of  the  purest  and 
strongest  I  ever  knew,  and  perhaps  the  most  affectionate. 

When  he  ran  for  Congress  in  1878  against  the  candidate 
of  the  combined  Greenback  and  Republican  parties,  in  a  dis- 
trict including  Richmond  City  and  several  counties,  I  was 
chairman  of  his  campaign  committee,  and  heartily  wish  it 
were  appropriate  to  relate  many  of  the  incidents  of  the  cam- 
paign so  graphically  illustrating  how  world-wide  apart  are 
the  soldier  and  the  politician.  I  must,  however,  be  pardoned 
for  telling  one. 

He  came  to  his  headquarters  one  morning  much  outraged 
at  what  I  had  not  heard  of  and,  of  course,  had  not  author- 
ized— the  erection  of  a  banner,  the  night  before,  in  the 
strongest  manufacturing  ward  in  the  city,  with  his  name 
upon  it  and  some  popular  catchword  or  phrase  squinting 
obscurely  at  "protection."  Upon  military  principles  he  held 
me  responsible,  but  I  soon  ascertained  that  it  had  been  done 
with  the  approval  of  a  shrewd  and  experienced  practical 
politician,  who  was  also  an  influential  member  of  the  com- 
mittee, and  I  deemed  it  proper  to  call  that  body  together. 
Upon  their  assembling  the  General  took  the  matter  entirely 
out  of  my  hands,  saying  substantially  and  with  very  hot 
emphasis :  "Gentlemen,  this  is  a  matter  about  which  I  do  not 
propose  to  ask  your  advice,  because  it  involves  my  conscience 
and  my  personal  honor.  I  spoke  yesterday,  at  Louisa  Court 
House,  under  a  'free-trade'  flag.  I  have  never  ridden  'both 
sides  of  the  sapling,'  and  I  don't  propose  to  learn  how  at 
this  late  day.  That  banner-  in  Clay  Ward  comes  down  to-day 
or  I  retire  from  this  canvass  by  published  card  to-morrow." 

I  have  said  he  was  the  most  affectionate  of  men.  It  will 
surprise  many,  who  saw  only  the  iron  bearing  of  the  soldier, 
to  hear  that  we  never  met,  or  parted  for  any  length  of  time, 
that  he  did  not,  if  we  were  alone,  throw  his  arms  about  me 
and  kiss  me,  and  that  such  was  his  habit  in  parting  from  or 
greeting  his  male  relatives  and  most  cherished  friends.  I 
will  only  add  that  he  and  General  Lee  entertained  the  most 
exalted  estimate  and  opinion  of  each  other,  and  when — very 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS    BATTLES  91 

late  in  the  war,  I  think  in  February,  1865 — Lee  was  made 
practical  dictator  and  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  armies 
of  the  Confederacy,  his  very  first  act  as  such  was  the  restora- 
tion of  Joseph  E.  Johnston  to  the  command  of  the  army  from 
which  he  had  been  removed  when  Hood  was  put  in  his  place. 

As  to  the  actual  fighting  at  Seven  Pines,  we  took  part  in 
it,  yet  not  a  very  prominent  part.  Among  the  heroes  of  the 
day  were  our  old  Leesburg  acquaintance,  now  Major-General 
D.  H.  Hill,  whose  division  covered  itself  and  its  commander 
with  blood  and  glory  by  one  of  the  most  dogged  and  deadly 
fights  on  record ;  and  Captain,  afterwards  Colonel,  Tom  Car- 
ter, of  the  King  William  Artillery — yesterday  the  ideal  ar- 
tillerist, the  idol  of  the  artillery  of  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  to-day  an  ideal  Southern  gentleman  and  the  effi- 
cient Proctor  of  our  State  University.  He  is  a  cousin  of 
Robert  E.  Lee,  and  combines  more  of  the  modesty,  simplic- 
ity, purity,  and  valor  of  his  great  kinsman  than  any  other 
living  man  of  my  acquaintance. 

At  Seven  Pines  his  battery  made  a  phenomenal  fight 
against  an  overwhelming  weight  of  metal,  and  while  Car- 
ter was  sitting  on  his  horse,  with  one  foot  in  the  stirrup  and 
the  other  thrown  across  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  directing 
the  undismayed  fight  of  the  undestroyed  fragment  of  his 
battery,  up  rode  our  old  friend  "D.  H.,"  and  in  the  midst 
of  the  awful  carnage  and  destruction  once  more  gave  ex- 
pression to  his  monomania  on  the  subject  of  fighting  pluck 
by  rising  in  his  stirrups,  saluting  Carter  and  his  men  and 
declaring  he  had  rather  be  captain  of  the  King  William  Ar- 
tillery than  President  of  the  Confederate  States.  But,  as 
before  said,  this  battle  lives  and  will  live  in  history,  mainly 
as  that  which  brought  together  for  the  first  time  the  great 
Captain  and  the  tattered  soldiery,  which  ere  long  made  the 
world  ring  with  their  fame. 

Lee's  grand  plan  of  the  Seven  Days'  battles  has  been  so 
often  expatiated  upon  by  able  soldiers  and  writers  that  I 
could  scarcely  hope  to  add  anything  of  intrinsic  value  to  the 
discussion,  so  I  propose  to  give  what  I  have  to  say  on  the 
topic  by  way  of  post-bellum  reminiscence. 

It  has  been  noted  with  surprise  how  many  distinguished 
and  devout  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England  have  admit- 


92  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

ted  an  irrepressible  lifelong-  yearning  for  the  army.  My  recol- 
lection is  that  this  feeling  crops  out  more  or  less  in  Kingsley ; 
I  am  sure  it  runs  like  a  refrain  through  Frederick  William 
Robertson's  life  and  letters  and  appears  perhaps  in  his  ser- 
mons. Years  ago,  when  he  who  is  now  Rev.  Dr.  Rainsford, 
of  St.  George's,  New  York,  was  a  glorious  youth,  he  con- 
ducted a  most  successful  mission  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  Rich- 
mond, Va.,  and  drew  some  of  us  very  close  to  him.  Toward 
the  close  of  his  work  he  asked  Col.  Archer  Anderson  and  my- 
self to  walk  with  him  over  the  field  of  the  Seven  Days'  bat- 
tles, or  as  much  of  it  as  we  could  "do"  on  foot  in  a  day.  We 
started  early  one  crisp  February  morning,  the  Colonel  and  I 
full  of  interest,  but  fearful  that  we  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
giant  stride  of  our  comrade,  who  was  a  trained  athlete  and 
one  of  the  most  heroic  looking  specimens  of  young  manhood 
I  ever  beheld.  We  could  not  help  thinking  what  a  soldier 
he  would  have  made.  He  was  not  then  a  Reverend  Doctor 
and  will,  I  am  sure,  pardon  me  for  speaking  of  him  on  this 
occasion  as  "Rainsford." 

We  explained  to  him  the  positions  of  the  two  armies  just 
before  the  opening  of  the  battle ;  that  Lee's  was  on  this,  the 
Richmond  side  of  the  Chickahominy,  which  was  generally 
impassable,  except  where  the  various  roads,  running  out  of 
Richmond  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel,  crossed  it;  that  Mc- 
Clellan's  army  was  on  both  sides  of  the  stream  or  swamp,  the 
bulk  of  it  perhaps  at  this  time  on  the  Richmond  side,  but  he 
had  established  and  fortified  free  communication  between  his 
two  wings ;  also  that  Jackson  had  been  secretly  drawn  down 
from  the  Valley,  and  was  now  hovering,  hawk  fashion,  some- 
where over  beyond  and  back  of  McClellan's  right  flank. 

We  next  showed  him  the  disparity  in  numbers,  McClellan. 
by  his  own  report,  dated  June  20,  1862,  six  days  before  the 
fighting  began,  having  "Present  for  duty  one  hundred  and 
five  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-five  (105,825) 
men ;"  and  as  he  was  anticipating  battle  and  calling  lustily  for 
reinforcements,_  his  force  was  probably  substantially  in- 
creased during  these  six  days ;  while  Lee,  as  demonstrated  by 
Col.  Walter  H.  Taylor,  adjutant-general  of  his  army,  and 
Gen.  Jubal  A.  Early,  both  better  informed  on  the  subject 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS    BATTLES  93 

than  any  other  man  ever  was,  had  a  little  under  or  a  little  over 
eighty  thousand  (80,000)  men  present  for  duty  when  the 
fight  opened,  including  Jackson's  forces.  Moreover,  our  in- 
feriority in  artillery,  both  as  to  number  and  character  of 
guns,  and  as  to  ammunition  also,  was  shocking. 

Meanwhile,  we  were  walking  out,  to  and  across  the  Chick- 
ahominy,  by  the  Mechanicsville  turnpike  or  the  Meadow 
Bridge  road,  the  last  of  which  debouched  on  the  other  side 
of  the  stream,  a  little  to  our  left  of  the  end  of  the  Fed- 
eral lines,  this  being  the  road  by  which  Lee's  first  attacking 
column  filed  out  on  the  26th  of  June,  '62,  swung  around  Mc- 
Clellan's  right  flank  and  burst  like  an  electric  bolt  upon  the 
besieging  army;  the  next  and  supporting  column  marching 
out  by  the  Mechanicsville  pike  as  soon  as  the  first  had  cleared 
that  road. 

We  explained  Jackson's  part  in  the  plan,  entering  the  fight 
the  next  day,  on  the  left  of  the  troops  from  Richmond  and 
further  in  rear  of  McClellan's  right  flank;  our  combined 
forces  driving  his  right  wing — which  was  most  ably  handled 
and  gallantly  fought — back  upon  his  centre,  from  which 
troops  had  been  already  drawn  to  support  his  right. 

We  pointed  out  to  him  the  audacious  boldness  of  Lee's 
plan  in  withdrawing  approximately  two-thirds  of  his  army 
from  the  lines  about  Richmond  for  this  attack,  so  that 
barely  28,000  men  were  left  between  the  Federal  army  and 
the  Confederate  capital. 

And  when  at  last  McClellan  succeeded  in  getting  all  of 
his  hard-pressed  troops  across  to  the  Richmond  side,  this 
28,000  men,  who  had  not  yet  been  engaged,  uniting  with 
their  victorious  comrades,  fell  like  an  avalanche  (or  rather 
had  orders  to  fall — nearly  one-third  of  them  did  not  fire  a 
shot)  upon  his  wornout,  beaten,  and  dispirited  troops,  drove 
them  pell-mell  under  the  guns  of  their  James  River  fleet,  and 
but  for  failure  of  subordinates  to  carry  out  instructions  Lee 
would  undoubtedly  have  dictated  terms  of  surrender  to  his 
gallant  foe. 

We  went  out  on  the  Meadow  Bridge  or  Mechanicsville 
road,  made  the  entire  sweep,  and  returned,  I  think,  by  the 
Williamsburg  road,  the  York  River  Railroad,  and  the  New 


94  FOUR  YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

Bridge  road — at  all  events,  we  could  scarcely  have  walked 
much,  if  any,  less  than  twenty-eight  to  thirty  miles.  It  was 
one  of  the  most  enjoyable  days  of  my  life.  Rainsford 
caught  the  plan  instantly.  Going  over  it  in  detail  with  him, 
upon  the  very  spots,  and  climbing  the  very  slopes  up  which 
Lee's  legions  had  rushed  to  the  charge,  he  was  thrilled  to  al- 
most savage  excitement,  yelling  like  a  rebel  infantryman, 
his  giant  frame  and  his  grand  face  absolutely  inspired.  In 
his  martial  ecstasy  he  threw  his  great  arms  about  us,  hugging 
us,  to  our  imminent  peril ;  declaring  he  had  loved  us  both  at 
first  sight,  but  could  never  forget  us  now,  and  that  to  have 
lived  in  and  been  a  part  of  those  days  and  those  battles 
was  enough  to  lift  men  forever  to  heroic  stature  and  char- 
acter. 

Our  battery  was  among  the  28,000  men  left  on  the  Rich- 
mond side  of  the  Chickahominy  to  defend  the  capital,  to 
occupy  the  attention  of  McClellan's  troops  on  this  side,  and 
to  prevent  their  recrossing  to  the  aid  of  their  hard-pressed 
comrades  on  the  other ;  but  the  real  defenders  of  the  city  were 
the  men  who  stormed  the  bloody  heights  at  Gaines'  Mill  and 
the  positions  at  Mechanicsville  and  Cold  Harbor.  We  were 
in  General  Magruder's  command  and  were  kept  most  of  the 
time  hitched  up  and  ready  to  move  at  a  moment's  warning. 
We  were  subjected  now  and  then  to  fire  from  Federal  bat- 
teries, suffered  some  loss  of  horses  and  equipment,  and  sev- 
eral of  our  men  were  wounded,  but  there  were  no  serious 
casualties. 

On  the  29th  of  June — Sunday,  I  think  it  was — General 
Magruder  advanced  his  troops  along  the  Nine-Mile  road  to 
feel  the  enemy,  when  the  main  thing  that  struck  us  was  the 
immense  quantity  of  abandoned  stores  and  equipment,  indi- 
cating how  abundant  had  been  the  supply  of  the  Federal 
forces  and  how  great  the  demoralization  of  their  retreat. 
Near  Savage  Station  there  must  have  been  acres  covered  by 
stacks  of  burning  boxes  of  bacon,  crackers,  and  desiccated 
vegetables — "desecrated  vegetables,"  our  boys  called  them. 
To  us  poorly-equipped  and  half-starved  rebels  it  was  a  reve- 
lation. Here  and  elsewhere  we  picked  up  a  few  rations  and  a 
few  choice  equipments  of  various  kinds,  but  had   really 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS    BATTLES  95 

neither  time  nor  taste  for  plunder.  There  were  other  me- 
mentoes of  their  stay  and  of  their  hasty  departure  left  by 
"our  friends  the  enemy,"  not  quite  so  attractive  or  appetizing 
— the  ghastly  leavings  of  numerous  field  hospitals;  pale, 
naked  corpses  and  grotesque  piles  of  arms  and  legs. 

At  one  of  these  hospital  stations  we  found  an  Irishman, 
whom  we  at  first  thought  dying,  as  perhaps  he  was;  but  a 
swallow  or  two  of  the  "crathur"  revived  him,  and  when, 
under  such  inspiration,  did  Pat  ever  fail  to  be  communica- 
tive and  witty  ?  He  seemed  to  grasp  the  situation  perfectly, 
and  upon  someone  asking  if  the  apparent  flight  might  not 
after  all  be  a  trap — "Be  dad,"  said  he,  "an'  ef  it's  a  thrap, 
thin  shure  an'  little  Mac's  lost  the  thrigger!" 

At  or  near  Savage  Station,  I  think  on  this  29th  of  June, 
our  brigade  commander,  General  Griffith,  was  killed.  In  a 
shower  of  projectiles  turned  loose  upon  us  by  an  unseen  foe, 
at  least  half  a  shell  from  a  three-inch  rifled  gun  lodged  in  his 
body.  The  marvel  is  he  did  not  die  instantly,  but  I  noted  a 
desperate  clinch  of  his  fingers  and  the  pallor  of  his  face  as  he 
clasped  his  hands  back  of  his  head  after  he  had  fallen  from 
his  horse.  He  was  a  genial  and  cultured  gentleman  and  re- 
garded as  a  very  promising  officer.  Colonel  Barksdale,  of 
the  Thirteenth,  at  once  took  command  of  the  brigade,  and 
was  soon  commissioned  brigadier. 

We  then  crossed  over  to  the  York  River  Railroad,  upon 
which  we  had  what  our  men  called  our  "railroad  gun,"  a 
siege  piece,  mounted  on  a  flat-car  with  an  engine  back  of  it, 
the  front  of  the  car  being  protected  by  rails  of  track  iron 
fastened  upon  an  incline,  the  mouth  of  the  gun  projecting  a 
little  as  from  an  embrasure.  As  it  puffed  up,  a  number  of 
Federal  batteries,  invisible  to  us,  opened  upon  it  and  upon 
the  troops,  and  General  Magruder  sent  an  order  for  our 
guns  to  cross  the  railroad  by  the  bridge  hard  by  and  come 
into  battery  in  the  smooth,  hard  field  beyond. 

We  executed  this  dashing  feat  in  gallant  style,  our  cap- 
tain riding  ahead,  the  pieces  in  a  wild  gallop  and  the  men  on 
a  wild  run  following.  Again  we  seemed  to  be  in  full  sight 
of  an  unseen  enemy,  for  the  bridge  was  raked  and  swept  by 
a  fearful  storm  of  shot  and  shell.    I  distinctly  remember  the 


96  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

shells  bursting  in  my  very  face,  and  the  bridge  must  have 
been  struck  repeatedly,  the  great  splinters  hurtling  past  and 
cutting  the  air  like  flashes  of  lightning,  yet  no  one  was  hurt. 
Once  across,  we  were  ordered,  "Forward  into  battery,  left 
oblique,  march !"  which  elaborate  movement  was  executed  by 
the  men  as  if  on  drill.  I  could  not  refrain  from  glancing 
around,  and  was  amazed  to  see  every  piece,  limber,  caisson 
and  man  in  the  exact  mathematical  position  in  which  each 
belonged,  and  every  man  seemed  to  have  struck  the  very  at- 
titude required  by  the  drill-book.  And  there  we  all  stood, 
raked  by  a  terrific  fire,  to  which  we  could  not  reply,  being 
really  a  second  line,  the  first — consisting  of  infantry  alone — 
having  passed  into  the  dense,  forbidding  forest  in  front, 
feeling  for  the  enemy.  And  so  it  was  most  of  the  way  to 
Malvern  Hill.  The  country  not  admitting  of  the  use  of 
cavalry  to  any  extent,  we  were  constantly  playing  at  "lost- 
ball/'  and  exposed  to  galling  fire  from  a  foe  we  could  not  see, 
and  to  whom  we  generally  could  not  reply  because  our  in- 
fantry was  in  the  woods  in  front  of  us. 

But  two  things  delighted  us  greatly :  Our  old  brigade 
had  been  in  our  rear  when  we  dashed  across  the  bridge, 
taking  the  fire  from  them — and  not  only  did  they  witness 
this,  but  they  were  lying  down  behind  us  when  we  executed 
the  beautiful  movement  and  made  the  staunch,  soldierly 
stand  in  the  open  field  beyond ;  so  they  cheered  us  enthusias- 
tically the  next  time  we  moved  by  them. 

The  second  morning  after, — just  as  we  came  into  battery 
on  the  field  of  Frazier's  (or  Frayser's)  farm,  where  the 
fighting  had  closed  after  dark  the  preceding  day,  and  which 
on  that  morning  presented  perhaps  the  most  ideal  view  of  a 
battlefield  I  ever  saw — captured  cannon,  exploded  limbers 
and  caissons,  dead  horses  and  dead  men  scattered  over  it  in 
most  picturesque  fashion, — Col.  Stephen  D.  Lee,  of  the  ar- 
tillery, afterwards  lieutenant-general,  rode  out  in  front  of  our 
guns,  took  off  his  hat  to  us  and  said  that  he  had  witnessed 
and  remarked  upon  our  performance  of  two  days  ago,  at  the 
railroad  bridge  and  in  the  field,  as  General  Magruder  had 
also ;  that  nothing  could  have  been  more  soldierly,  and  hav- 
ing thus  shown  ourselves  equal  to  the  most  trying  duty  of  the 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS    BATTLES  97 

soldier,  the  duty  of  standing  and  receiving  fire  without  re- 
plying to  it,  he  had  determined  we  should  certainly  have  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  how  well  we  could  perform  the  easier 
part  of  returning  fire,  blow  for  blow — an  opportunity  we 
certainly  did  have  at  Malvern  Hill,  ad  satietatem,  or  ad 
nauseam,  as  the  case  might  be,  according  to  the  degree  and 
intensity  of  a  man's  hankering  and  hungering  for  fight.  As 
for  our  own  feelings  upon  this  subject,  just  at  this  time,  we 
had  but  that  moment  turned  our  backs  upon  a  scene  no  ways 
calculated  to  impart  hot  stomach  for  battle. 

The  six  brigades  of  General  Magruder's  command — 
Barksdale's,  to  which  we  were  attached,  being  one — had  ar- 
rived at  Frazier's  farm  the  preceding  night  after  dark  and 
too  late  to  take  part  in  the  engagement.  We  were  overpow- 
ered with  fatigue,  intent  only  on  sleep,  and  sank  to  rest  amid 
the  wreck  and  death  of  the  hard- fought  field.  In  the  shadowy 
dawn,  as  our  guns,  moving  into  position  to  reopen  the  fight, 
threaded  their  way  through  the  confused  bivouac  of  the  slum- 
bering, the  dying  and  the  dead — the  mysterious  hush  of  the 
battlefield  resting  over  all — we  saw,  side  by  side,  upturned 
together  to  the  bleaching  dew,  the  pale  faces  of  the  breath- 
ing and  the  breathless  sleepers,  not  distinguishable  in  the 
dim  morning  twilight.  Suddenly  the  drums  beat  to  arms 
and  the  living  rose, — and  then  the  stolidest  veteran  in  that 
vast  multitude  shuddered  as  he  left  the  side  of  his  ghastly 
bedfellow  who  had  rested  with  him  so  quietly  all  that  sum- 
mer night,  and  by  whose  side  the  frame  that  now  shrank 
away  with  horror  might  rest  to-night  as  ghastly  as  he. 

All  of  us  had  been  longing  for  a  sight  of  Jackson.  It  is 
impossible  to  exaggerate  or  even  to  convey  an  adequate  idea 
of  the  excitement  and  furor  concerning  him  about  this  time, 
both  in  the  army  and  among  the  people. 

On  Sunday  evening,  not  far  from  Savage  Station,  I  had 
been  struck  directly  over  the  heart  by  a  spent  ball,  which 
glanced  from  a  buckle,  but  blackened  my  breast  and  nau- 
seated me  somewhat.  Next  morning,  still  feeling  badly  and 
the  battery  remaining  stationary  for  a  time,  I  had  retired  a 
little  from  the  line  and  was  half  reclining  at  the  foot  of  a  huge 
pine  that  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  Williamsburg  road.  Hear- 


98  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

ing  the  jingle  of  cavalry  accoutrements  toward  the  Chicka- 
hominy,  I  looked  up  and  saw  a  half-dozen  mounted  men,  and 
riding  considerably  in  advance  a  solitary  horseman,  whom  I 
instantly  recognized  as  the  great  wizard  of  the  marvelous 
Valley  Campaign  which  had  so  thrilled  the  army  and  the 
country. 

Jackson  and  the  little  sorrel  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  probably  not  fifty  feet  off,  while  his  staff  halted  per- 
haps a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  in  his  rear.  He  sat  stark  and 
stiff  in  the  saddle.  Horse  and  rider  appeared  worn  down 
to  the  lowest  point  of  flesh  consistent  with  effective  service. 
His  hair,  skin,  eyes,  and  clothes  were  all  one  neutral  dust 
tint,  and  his  badges  of  rank  so  dulled  and  tarnished  as  to  be 
scarcely  perceptible.  The  "mangy  little  cadet  cap"  was  pulled 
so  low  in  front  that  the  visor  cut  the  glint  of  his  eyeballs. 

A  ghastly  scene  was  spread  across  the  road  hard  by.  The 
Seventeenth  and  Twenty-first  Mississippi,  of  our  brigade, 
had  been  ordered  into  the  woods  about  dusk  the  evening  be- 
fore and  told  not  to  fire  into  the  first  line  they  met ;  but  the 
poor  fellows  ran  into  a  Federal  brigade  and  were  shocked 
and  staggered  by  a  deadly  volley.  Splendid  soldiers  that  they 
were,  they  obeyed  orders,  held  their  own  fire,  laid  down  and 
took  the  enemy's.  Almost  every  man  struck  was  killed,  and 
every  man  killed  shot  through  the  brain.  Their  comrades 
had  gone  into  the  woods  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  brought  out 
the  bodies  and  laid  them  in  rows,  with  hands  crossed  upon 
the  breast,  but  eyes  wide-staring.  A  sickly  summer  rain  had 
fallen  in  the  night  and  the  faces  of  the  dead  were  bleached 
with  more  than  death's  pallor.  Every  eyeball  was  strained 
upward  toward  the  spot  where  the  bullet  had  crashed  through 
the  skull,  and  every  forehead  stained  with  ooze  and  trickle 
of  blood.  Men  were  passing  through  the  silent  lines,  bend- 
ing low,  seeking  in  the  distorted  faces  to  identify  their 
friends. 

Jackson  glanced  a  moment  toward  this  scene.  Not  a 
muscle  quivered  as  he  resumed  his  steady  gaze  down  the 
road  toward  Richmond.  He  was  the  ideal  of  concentration, 
— imperturbable,  resistless.  I  remember  feeling  that  if  he 
were  not  a  very  good  man  he  would  be  a  very  bad  one.    By 


SEVEN  PINES  AND  THE  SEVEN  DAYS    BATTLES  99 

a  ludicrous  turn  of  the  association  of  ideas,  the  old  darkey 
minister's  illustration  of  faith  flashed  through  my  brain: 
"Bredren,  ef  de  Lord  tell  me  to  jump  through  a  stone  wall, 
I's  gwine  to  jump  at  it;  jumpin'  at  it  'longs  to  me,  goin' 
through  it  'longs  to  God."  The  man  before  me  would  have 
jumped  at  anything  the  Lord  told  him  to  jump  through. 

A  moment  later  and  his  gaze  was  rewarded.  A  magnifi- 
cent staff  approached  from  the  direction  of  Richmond,  and 
riding  at  its  head,  superbly  mounted,  a  born  king  among 
men.  At  that  time  General  Lee  was  one  of  the  handsomest 
of  men,  especially  on  horseback,  and  that  morning  every  de- 
tail of  the  dress  and  equipment  of  himself  and  horse  was 
absolute  perfection.  When  he  recognized  Jackson  he  rode 
forward  with  a  courier,  his  staff  halting.  As  he  gracefully 
dismounted,  handing  his  bridle  rein  to  his  attendant,  and  ad- 
vanced, drawing  the  gauntlet  from  his  right  hand,  Jackson 
flung  himself  off  his  horse  and  advanced  to  meet  Lee, 
little  sorrel  trotting  back  to  the  staff,  where  a  courier  secured 
him. 

The  two  generals  greeted  each  other  warmly,  but  wasted 
no  time  upon  the  greeting.  They  stood  facing  each  other, 
some  thirty  feet  from  where  I  lay,  Lee's  left  side  and  back 
toward  me,  Jackson's  right  and  front.  Jackson  began  talk- 
ing in  a  jerky,  impetuous  way,  meanwhile  drawing  a  dia- 
gram on  the  ground  with  the  toe  of  his  right  boot.  He 
traced  two  sides  of  a  triangle  with  promptness  and  decision ; 
then  starting  at  the  end  of  the  second  line,  began  to  draw  a 
third  projected  toward  the  first.  This  third  line  he  traced 
slowly  and  with  hesitation,  alternately  looking  up  at  Lee's 
face  and  down  at  his  diagram,  meanwhile  talking  earnestly ; 
and  when  at  last  the  third  line  crossed  the  first  and  the  tri- 
angle was  complete,  he  raised  his  foot  and  stamped  it  down 
with  emphasis,  saying,  "We've  got  him ;"  then  signalled  for 
his  horse,  and  when  he  came,  vaulted  awkwardly  into  the 
saddle  and  was  off.  Lee  watched  him  a  moment,  the  courier 
brought  his  horse,  he  mounted,  and  he  and  his  staff  rode 
away. 

The  third  line  was  never  drawn — so  we  never  "got"  Mc- 
Clellan. 


IOO  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

I  question  if  any  other  man  witnessed  this  interview — 
certainly  no  other  was  as  near  the  two  generals.  At  times  I 
could  hear  their  words,  though  they  were  uttered,  for  the 
most  part,  in  the  low  tones  of  close  and  earnest  conference. 
As  the  two  faced  each  other,  except  that  the  difference  in 
height  was  not  great,  the  contrast  between  them  could  not 
have  been  more  striking — in  feature,  figure,  dress,  voice, 
style,  bearing,  manner,  everything,  in  short,  that  expressed 
the  essential  individuality  of  the  two  men.  It  was  the  Cava- 
lier and  the  Puritan  in  intensest  embodiment.  These  two 
great  roots  and  stocks  of  British  manhood  had  borne  each 
its  consummate  flower  in  the  rank  soil  of  the  New  World. 


~ 


CHAPTER  IX 

MALVERN    HILL    AND    THE    EFFECT    OF    THE    SEVEN    DAYS' 

BATTLES 

Not  a  Confederate  Victory — The  Federal  Artillery  Fire — Demoralization 
of  Lee's  Army — "McClellan  Will  Be  Gone  by  Daylight" — The 
Weight  of  Lee's  Sword — Stuart — Pelham — Pegram — "Extra  Billy" 
— To  Battle  in  a  Trotting  Sulky — The  Standard  of  Courage. 

I  have  said  nothing  as  yet  about  Malvern  Hill.  No  Con- 
federate cares  to  say  anything  about  it.  If  McClellan  had 
done  nothing  else  in  the  seven  days  to  stamp  him  as  a  gen- 
eral, and  his  army  nothing  else  to  stamp  them  as  soldiers, 
beyond  the  selection  of  this  position,  the  disposition  and 
handling  of  his  artillery,  and  the  stubborn  and  successful 
stand  there  made,  after  and  in  spite  of  the  experiences  of  the 
six  days  preceding — the  reputation,  both  of  general  and 
of  soldiers,  might  well  be  rested  on  this  basis  alone.  If 
it  had  been  a  single,  isolated  battle,  it  would  have  gone 
down  into  history  simply  and  squarely  as  a  defeat  for  the 
Confederates,  and  even  when  viewed  in  its  historic  connec- 
tion, it  must  yet  be  admitted  that  all  our  assaults  were  re- 
pulsed and  our  pursuit  so  staggered  that  the  Federal  general 
was  allowed  to  withdraw  his  army  without  being  closely 
pressed. 

Upon  our  side  there  was  not  a  single  relieving  feature  in 
the  picture.  In  the  first  place,  the  battle  ought  never  to 
have  been  fought  where  it  was.  If  the  orders  of  Lee  had 
been  carried  out,  it  would  not  have  been,  for  McClellan 
would  never  have  reached  this  position.  The  "third  line," 
of  which  Lee  and  Jackson  spoke  in  the  interview  described  in 
the  preceding  chapter,  was  never  drawn.  The  understanding 
in  the  army  at  the  time  was  that  Huger  and  Holmes  were 
to  have  drawn  it,  but  that  their  commands  lost  their  way  in 


102  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

the  almost  trackless  forest.  In  an  address  on  "The  Cam- 
paigns of  Gen.  Robert  E.  Lee,"  delivered  at  Washington  and 
Lee  University  in  1872,  on  January  19th,  Lee's  birthday, 
Gen.  Jubal  A.  Early  says :  "*  *  *  Holmes'  command,  over 
six  thousand  strong,  did  not  actually  engage  in  any  of  the 
battles."  But  Col.  Walter  H.  Taylor,  in  his  "Four  Years 
with  General  Lee,"  published  in  1877,  already  referred  to, 
repeats  three  times — on  pages  51,  53,  and  54 — that  Holmes' 
command  numbered  ten  thousand  or  more ;  and  it  is  obvious, 
upon  a  comparison  of  the  two  statements,  that  Early's  fig- 
ures, "over  six  thousand,"  did  not  include  Ransom's  brig- 
ade, which  numbered  thirty-six  hundred. 

It  seems  incredible,  yet  it  appears  to  be  true,  that  Gen- 
eral Holmes  was  very  deaf;  so  deaf  that,  when  heaven  and 
earth  were  shuddering  with  the  thunder  of  artillery  and  the 
faces  of  his  own  men  were  blanched  with  the  strain,  he  placed 
his  hand  behind  his  ear,  and  turning  to  a  member  of  his  staff, 
said,  "I  think  I  hear  guns."  The  story  was  told  by  one  of  his 
own  brigadiers,  and  if  anything  approximating  to  it  was 
true,  then  a  great  responsibility  rests  upon  some  one  for  put- 
ting an  officer  so  far  disabled  in  charge  of  troops, — espe- 
cially at  such  a  crisis  and  for  such  a  service, — whatever  his 
other  qualifications  may  have  been. 

As  before  stated,  General  Lee  left  but  twenty-eight  thou- 
sand men  on  the  Richmond  side  of  the  Chickahominy  when 
he  crossed  to  the  other  side  to  attack  McClellan,  and  of 
course  looked  to  these  fresh  troops,  when  his  victorious  but 
decimated  and  worn-out  soldiers  had  driven  the  enemy  into 
their  arms,  to  fall  upon  the  Federal  general  and  gather  the 
fruits  of  victory.  But  here  are  more  than  one-third  of  these 
fresh  troops,  and  the  very  ones  Lee  had  arranged  should 
cut  off  the  retreat  of  his  gallant  foe,  that  never  got  into  ac- 
tion at  all,  and  McClellan  was  permitted  to  reach  and  oc- 
cupy the  strong  position  which  saved  his  army  and  cost  the 
lives  of  thousands  of  ours.  And  even  this  was  not  all.  Ma- 
gruder,  a  most  vigorous  officer,  to  whose  command  we  were 
attached,  lost  his  way  and  thus  delayed  the  attack  and  gave 
McClellan  further  time  for  his  dispositions.  And  when  at 
last  we  did  attack,  it  was  in  a  disconnected  and  desultory 


EFFECT   OF   THE   SEVEN   DAYS     BATTLES  IO3 

fashion,  which  even  to  a  private  soldier  seemed  to  promise 
no  good  result.  But  I  cannot  give  a  fairer  or  better  idea 
of  our  view  of  the  battle  than  by  quoting  from  pages  48,  49 
of  Colonel  Taylor's  admirable  book : 

From  these  extracts  I  think  it  will  be  clear  to  the  candid  reader  that 
the  retreat  to  the  James  River  was  a  compulsory  one,  and  due  to  a  defeat 
then  acknowledged  by  General  McClellan  himself. 

The  fighting,  however,  was  not  invariably  attended  with  success  to 
the  Confederates;  notably,  the  defense  of  Malvern  Hill  by  the  Federals 
was  in  favor  of  the  latter,  which  result  was  as  much  due  to  the  misman- 
agement of  the  Confederate  troops  as  to  the  naturally  strong  position 
occupied  by  the  Federals  and  their  gallantry  in  its  defense. 

Considerable  delay  was  occasioned  in  the  pursuit  from  the  fact  that 
the  ground  was  unknown  to  the  Confederate  commanders.  On  this  occa- 
sion General  Magruder  took  the  wrong  route  and  had  to  be  recalled, 
thereby  losing  much  precious  time;  and  when  after  serious  and 
provoking  delay  the  lines  were  formed  for  attack,  there  was  some  mis- 
understanding of  the  orders  of  the  commanding  general,  and  instead  of 
a  spirited,  united  advance  by  the  entire  line,  as  contemplated,  the 
divisions  were  moved  forward  at  different  times,  each  attacking  inde- 
pendently, and  each  in  turn  repulsed.  Moreover,  owing  to  the  peculiar 
character  of  the  ground,  artillery  could  not  be  advantageously  placed  to 
aid  the  assaulting  columns;  whereas  the  Federal  batteries,  strongly 
posted  and  most  handsomely  served,  contributed  in  a  very  great  degree 
to  the  successful  stand  made  by  McClellan's  retreating  army  at  Malvern 
Hill. 

I  have  characterized  the  foregoing  as  a  fair  statement, 
as  it  certainly  is,  and  yet  even  this  fails  to  convey  an  ade- 
quate impression  of  the  stunning  and  temporarily  depressing 
effect  of  this  battle  upon  our  army.  As  to  my  own  expe- 
rience and  feelings,  the  revelation  I  am  about  to  make  may 
be  a  damaging  one,  yet  I  have  no  desire  to  sail  under  false 
colors,  and  then,  too,  my  own  case  may  serve  to  confirm  and 
in  part  to  explain  the  remarkable  statements  below  made  as 
to  the  sudden  and  fearful  deterioration  in  the  condition  of 
our  army  which  this  battle,  for  the  time,  effected. 

Three  of  the  guns  of  the  old  battery  were  put  in  action 
against  McClellan's  majestic  aggregation  of  batteries,  by 
way  of  at  least  making  a  diversion  in  favor  of  our  assaulting 


104  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

infantry,  a  diversion  which  I  presume  we  to  some  extent 
accomplished ;  for  I  never  conceived  anything  approximating 
the  shower  and  storm  of  projectiles  and  the  overwhelming 
cataclysm  of  destruction  which  were  at  once  turned  upon  our 
pitiful  little  popguns.  In  the  short  time  they  existed  as  ef- 
fective pieces  they  were  several  times  fired  by  fragments  of 
Federal  shell  striking  them  after  the  lanyard  was  stretched 
and  before  it  was  pulled ;  and  in  almost  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  it  the  carriages  were  completely  crushed,  smashed,  and 
splintered  and  the  guns  themselves  so  injured  and  defaced 
that  we  were  compelled  to  send  them  to  Richmond,  after  the 
battle,  to  be  remoulded. 

We  were  put  in  action,  too,  after  a  long,  hot  run.  I  was 
as  sound  and  strong  as  human  flesh  could  well  be,  and  yet 
my  lungs  seemed  to  be  pumped  out,  my  brain  reeled  and  my 
tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  which  was  burnt  so 
dry  that  I  experienced  great  difficulty  in  swallowing.  Never- 
theless, I  managed  to  do  my  part  in  serving  my  gun,  until, 
in  a  few  moments,  it  was  completely  disabled,  when  I  fell  to 
the  earth,  a  horror  of  great  darkness  came  upon  me,  and  the 
only  distinct  impression  I  can  recall  is  that  I  felt  I  would  be 
glad  to  compromise  on  annihilation. 

When  I  roused  myself  from  this  semi-stupor  or  swOon 
the  detachment  seemed  to  have  disappeared,  but  in  a  few 
moments  I  found  most  of  the  men.  I  remember  catching  by 
the  collar  one  who  had  dropped  down,  "all  in  a  heap,"  in  an 
unnecessarily  exposed  position  on  the  projecting  root  of  a 
large  tree  and  jerking  him  up;  when  on  the  instant  a  shell 
tore  to  pieces  the  root  upon  which  he  had  been  seated,  and 
yet  he  sank  down  again  but  a  step  or  two  from  the  spot.  It 
was  the  first  battle  in  which  members  of  the  company  had 
been  killed  outright.  The  wonder  is  that  any  survived  who 
were  working  these  three  pieces;  but  I  suppose  it  is  to  be 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  guns  were  quickly  disabled 
and  put  out  of  action. 

According  to  his  own  report  of  June  20,  1862,  McClellan 
had  three  hundred  and  forty  pieces  of  field  artillery.  I  see 
no  reason  for  doubting  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  these 
were  massed  upon  Malvern  Hill.     Nothing  human  can  long 


EFFECT   OF  THE  SEVEN   DAYS'   BATTLES  IO5 

withstand  the  fire  of  such  a  mass  of  artillery  concentrated, 
as  the  Federal  guns  at  Malvern  Hill  were,  upon  very  short 
attacking  lines  of  infantry.  Colonel  Taylor  says  divisions 
were  marched  forward  at  different  times,  each  attacking  in- 
dependently and  each  in  turn  repulsed.  I  think  it  was  even 
worse  than  this,  and  that  in  some  cases  single  brigades  ad- 
vanced to  the  attack  and  were  almost  literally  swept  back- 
ward by  what  seemed  to  be  the  fire  of  a  continuous  line  of 
battle  of  artillery. 

The  effect  of  these  repeated  bloody  repulses  can  hardly 
be  conceived.  One  fearful  feature  was  the  sudden  and  awful 
revulsion  of  feeling  among  our  soldiers,  inspired  by  six  days 
of  constant  victory  and  relentless  pursuit  of  a  retreating  foe. 
The  demoralization  was  great  and  the  evidences  of  it  palpa- 
ble everywhere.  The  roads  and  forests  were  full  of  strag- 
glers; commands  were  inextricably  confused,  some,  for  the 
time,  having  actually  disappeared.  Those  who  retained  suf- 
ficient self-respect  and  sense  of  responsibility  to  think  of  the 
future  were  filled  with  the  deepest  apprehension.  I  know 
that  this  was  the  state  of  mind  of  some  of  our  strongest  and 
best  officers ;  in  fact,  I  do  not  know  of  any  general  officer  in 
the  army,  save  one,  who  did  not  entertain  the  gloomiest  fore- 
bodings, and  I  recall  hearing  at  the  time,  or  rather  a  day  or 
so  afterwards,  substantially  the  same  story  of  that  one  which 
within  the  last  few  years  and  a  short  time  before  his  own 
death  was  related  by  Dr.  Hunter  McGuire,  Jackson's  medical 
director,  a  man  whom  of  all  men  he  loved  and  trusted  next 
after  his  great  chief,  Robert  Lee.  I  quote  from  an  address 
first  delivered  by  Doctor  McGuire  at  Lexington,  but  repeat- 
ed several  times  afterwards  by  special  request : 

At  Malvern  Hill,  when  a  portion  of  our  army  was  beaten  and  to  some 
extent  demoralized,  Hill  and  Ewell  and  Early  came  to  tell  him  that  they 
could  make  no  resistance  if  McClellan  attacked  them  in  the  morning.  It 
was  difficult  to  wake  General  Jackson,  as  he  was  exhausted  and  very 
sound  asleep.  I  tried  it  myself,  and  after  many  efforts,  partly  suc- 
ceeded. When  he  was  made  to  understand  what  was  wanted  he  said : 
"McClellan  and  his  army  will  be  gone  by  daylight,"  and  went  to  sleep 
again.    The  generals  thought  him  mad,  but  the  prediction  was  true. 

The  Hill  here  referred  to  is  probably  not  our  old  friend 
"D.  H.,"  but  A.  P.  Hill,  a  more  brilliant  soldier,  yet,  per- 


106  FOUR   YEARS   UNDER   MARSE   ROBERT 

haps,  not  so  peculiarly  distinguished  for  imperturbable  grit. 
The  story  illustrates  two  of  the  greatest  and  most  distin- 
guishing traits  and  powers  of  Jackson  as  a  general :  he  did 
not  know  what  demoralization  meant,  and  he  never  failed  to 
know  just  what  his  adversary  thought  and  felt  and  proposed 
to  do.  In  the  present  instance,  not  only  did  all  that  Jack- 
son said  and  implied  turn  out  to  be  true,  that  McClellan  was 
thinking  only  of  escape,  and  never  dreamed  of  viewing  the 
battle  of  Malvern  Hill  in  any  other  aspect,  but  in  an  incred- 
ibly short  time  our  army  had  recovered  its  tone  and  had 
come  to  take  the  same  view  of  the  matter.  Indeed,  as  I  be- 
lieve, nothing  but  another  untoward  accident  prevented  Mc- 
Clellan's  surrendering  his  entire  army  to  Lee,  notwithstand- 
ing his  successful  defense  at  Malvern  Hill.  The  matter  will 
be  found  circumstantially  set  out  in  Colonel  Taylor's  book, 
pages  41-44,  substantiated  and  confirmed  by  a  full  extract 
from  General  Stuart's  manuscript  of  "Reports  and  Notes  on 
the  War,"  and  also  by  extracts  from  the  report  of  the  "Com- 
mittee on  the  Conduct  of  the  War,"  and  is  in  outline  as  fol- 
lows: 

Stuart,  Lee's  chief  of  cavalry,  following  up  McClellan's 
movements  after  Malvern  Hill,  from  the  heights  above  West  - 
over,  overlooked  the  entire  Federal  army  huddled  together 
in  the  river  bottoms  of  and  adjacent  to  Westover  planta- 
tion, apparently  in  a  state  of  utter  disorganization  and  un- 
preparedness,  and  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  drop- 
ping a  few  shells  among  them,  which  produced  a  perfect 
stampede  among  the  troops  and  wagons,  but  at  the  same 
time  had  the  effect  of  calling  the  attention  of  the  Federal 
commanders  to  the  fact  that  the  position  of  their  army  was 
utterly  untenable  without  command  of  the  heights  from 
which  these  shells  had  been  fired,  and  they  immediately  sent 
a  heavy  force  to  take  possession  of  them.  Stuart  at  once  in- 
formed General  Lee  and  received  word  that  Jackson  and 
Longstreet  were  en  route  to  support  him;  but  again  the 
guides  proved  incompetent,  and  Longstreet  was  led  six  or 
seven  miles  out  of  the  way,  and  Stuart,  after  resisting  as 
long  as  he  could,  was  compelled  to  yield  possession  of  the 
heights,  which  were  promptly  occupied  and  fortified  by  an 


EFFECT  OF  THE  SEVEN   DAYS     BATTLES  IO7 

adequate  Federal  force,  and  McClellan's  army  was,  for  the 
first  time,  safe  from  successful  attack. 

After  having  for  the  third  time  traced  the  failure  of  the 
plans  of  the  Confederates  to  the  incompetence  or  to  the  de- 
linquency of  guides, — in  the  misleading  of  Holmes  and 
Huger,  of  Magruder,  and  now  of  Longstreet, — it  seems 
proper  to  remark  that  the  entire  region  which  was  the  theatre 
of  the  Seven  Days'  battles  is,  for  the  most  part,  covered  by 
heavy  pine  forests  and  cypress  swamps,  and  these  traversed 
by  many  wood  roads,  or  paths  rather,  undistinguishable  the 
one  from  the  other.  The  confusing  character  of  the  country 
is  well  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  the  last  time  I  went  there, 
with  a  party  of  survivors  of  our  old  battery,  with  the  view, 
if  possible,  of  identifying  certain  positions  occupied  by  our 
guns  in  the  campaign  of  '64,  we  had  two  guides  born  and 
reared  in  the  neighborhood  and  who  professed  to  be  per- 
fectly familiar  with  the  country  and  with  the  positions  we 
desired  to  find;  and  yet  these  men  insisted  upon  leading  us 
astray,  and  would  have  done  so,  but  that  my  recollection  and 
my  instinct  of  locality  were  so  opposed  to  their  views  that  I 
simply  refused  to  be  misled.  Unassisted  and  unaccompanied 
I  found  the  first  position  sought,  the  rest  of  the  party,  with 
the  guides,  wandering  around  for  hours  and  finally  working 
around  to  me.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  generals 
who  were  misled  by  guides,  to  the  disarrangement  and 
defeat  of  General  Lee's  perfectly  arranged  plans,  so  far  at 
least  as  I  have  reason  to  believe,  had  never  been  in  the  region 
before. 

Yet,  once  more.  "Stuart,  glorious  Stuart,"  as  Colonel 
Taylor  justly  calls  him,  while  his  boyish  indiscretion  in  firing 
into  the  huddled  masses  of  the  enemy  from  Evelington 
Heights,  before  informing  General  Lee  of  the  situation,  was 
apparently  the  cause  of  the  loss  of  another  great  opportunity 
— yet  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  in  this  connection,  that  the 
great  plan  of  the  Seven  Days  battles  owed  its  inspiration,  or 
at  least  its  completion  and  perfection,  to  the  information  de- 
rived from  Stuart's  marvelous  ride  around  McClellan's  en- 
tire army  just  in  advance  of  Lee's  attack,  more  than  to  any 
other  source  outside  the  imperial  intellect  of  the  Commander- 


108  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

in-Chief  himself.  Stuart  was  a  splendidly  endowed  cavalry 
leader,  his  only  fault  being  a  tendency  to  indulge  too  far  his 
fondness  for  achievements  that  savored  of  the  startling,  the 
marvelous,  and  the  romantic. 

One  more  general  reflection :  Whatever  effect  the  Seven 
Days'  battles  may  have  had  upon  other  reputations,  Federal 
or  Confederate — and  there  were  upon  our  side  generals 
whose  names  stood  high  upon  the  roster  of  our  main  army 
when  these  operations  began,  but  never  again  appeared  upon 
it  after  they  closed — yet  there  is  one  name  and  fame  which 
these  seven  days  gave  to  history  and  to  glory,  as  to  which 
the  entire  world  stands  agreed,  and  all  the  after  chances  and 
changes  of  the  war  but  expanded  the  world's  verdict.  When 
we  contemplate  Lee's  great  plan  and  the  qualities  of  leader- 
ship which  these  operations  revealed  in  him,  we  know  not 
which  most  to  admire — the  brilliance,  the  comprehensiveness, 
or  the  almost  reckless  audacity  of  the  scheme  and  of  the  man. 
It  is  a  singular  fact,  and  one  which  seems  to  demand  expla- 
nation, that  the  prominent  impression  which  Lee  invariably 
seems  to  make  is  that  of  roundness,  balance,  perfection ;  and 
yet  unquestionably  his  leading  characteristic  as  a  general  is 
aggressive  audacity.  Take  for  example  his  leaving  but 
28,000  of  80,000  men  between  McClellan  and  Richmond, 
and  with  the  other  52,000  crossing  a  generally  impassable 
stream  and  attacking  McClellan's  105,000  in  entrenched  po- 
sitions. Mayhap  old  Jubal  Early,  who  knew  Lee  and  knew 
war  as  well  as  any  other  man  on  either  side,  has  the  right  of 
it  and  suggests  the  true  explanation  when  he  says,  speaking 
of  this  very  operation :  "Timid  minds  might  regard  this  as 
rashness,  but  it  was  the  very  perfection  of  a  profound  and 
daring  strategy." 

And  when  we  attempt  to  measure  the  effect  of  these 
Seven  Days'  battles — when  we  note  that  within  less  than 
one  month  from  the  day  he  took  command  of  an  army  with 
which  he  had  had  no  previous  personal  connection,  Lee  had 
completely  secured  its  confidence  and  correctly  estimated  its 
capabilities,  had  conceived  and  perfected  his  great  plan  and 
every  detail  essential  to  its  successful  execution,  had  begun  to 
put  it  into  operation  and  actually  delivered  his  first  great 


EFFECT   OF   THE   SEVEN   DAYS     BATTLES  IO9 

blow;  when  we  note  further  that  within  a  week  after  that 
blow  was  struck  Richmond  was  entirely  relieved  and  within 
a  few  weeks  more  Washington  was  in  serious  peril,  and 
the  United  States  Government  had  called  for  three  hundred 
thousand  more  men ;  when,  we  say,  all  this  is  considered,  we 
may  well  ask  when  did  the  weight  of  one  great  Captain's 
sword,  only  this  and  nothing  more,  cause  the  scales  of  war 
to  dip  with  such  a  determined,  downward  sag  ? 

One  of  the  most  important  features  of  these  seven  days  of 
battle  was  that  it  was  the  first  prolonged  wrestle  of  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia,  the  struggle  that  really  gave  birth  to 
that  army;  that  gave  it  experience  of  its  own  powers,  co- 
hesion, character,  confidence  in  itself  and  in  its  great  com- 
mander— proper  estimate  of  its  great  opponent,  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  and  its  commander.  Then,  too,  these  days 
of  continuous  battle  tested  the  individual  men,  and  especially 
the  officers  of  the  army,  winnowing  the  chaff  from  the  wheat 
and  getting  rid  of  some  high  in  command  who  did  not  catch 
the  essential  spirit  of  the  army  or  assimilate  well  with  it,  or 
bid  fair  to  add  anything  of  value  to  it;  at  the  same  time  this 
week  of  continuous  battle  brought  to  the  front  men  who  had 
in  them  stuff  out  of  which  heroes  are  made  and  who  were 
destined  to  make  names  and  niches  for  themselves  in  the 
pantheon  of  this  immortal  army. 

Among  those  in  my  own  branch  of  the  service  who  came 
prominently  to  the  front,  besides  Tom  Carter,  who  never  lost 
the  place  he  made  for  himself  at  Seven  Pines  in  the  affec- 
tionate admiration  of  the  artillery  and  of  the  army,  were  the 
boy  artillerists  Pegram  and  Pelham,  both  yielding  their 
glorious  young  lives  in  the  struggle — Pegram  at  the  very 
end,  Pelham  but  eight  months  after  Malvern  Hill.  The  lat- 
ter, an  Alabamian,  was  commander  of  Stuart's  horse  artil- 
lery, devotedly  loved  and  admired  by  his  commanding  gen- 
eral, the  pride  of  the  cavalry  corps,  one  of  the  most  dashing 
and  brilliant  soldiers  in  the  service,  though  but  twenty-two 
years  of  age  when  he  fell.  He  was  knighted  by  Lee  him- 
self in  official  report  as  "the  gallant  Pelham." 

The  other,  Pegram,  was  a  more  serious  and  a  more  power- 
ful man,  who  came  of  a  family  of  soldiers  who  had  rendered 


IIO  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

distinguished  service,  both  in  the  army  and  navy,  prior  to 
the  war;  an  elder  brother,  a  graduate  of  West  Point  and  a 
singularly  attractive  man,  rising  to  the  rank  of  major-general 
in  the  Confederate  service,  and  also  losing  his  life  in  battle. 
The  younger  brother,  the  artillerist,  a  student  when  the  war 
began,  enlisted  as  a  private  soldier  in  a  battery  raised  in  the 
City  of  Richmond,  which  he  commanded  when  the  Seven 
Days'  battles  opened,  rendering  with  it  signal  and  distin- 
guished service.  Eventually  he  rose  to  the  rank  and  com- 
mand of  colonel  of  artillery,  and  was  recommended  for  ap- 
pointment as  brigadier-general  of  infantry,  General  Lee  say- 
ing he  would  find  a  brigade  for  him  just  as  soon  as  he  could 
be  spared  from  the  artillery;  but  meanwhile  he  fell  in  battle 
at  Five  Forks  in  the  spring  of  '65,  even  then  hardly  more 
than  a  stripling  in  years. 

He  had  always  been  such  a  modest,  self-contained  and 
almost  shrinking  youth  that  his  most  intimate  friends 
were  astonished  at  his  rapid  development  and  promotion; 
but  it  was  one  of  those  strongly-marked  cases  where  war 
seemed  to  be  the  needed  and  almost  the  native  air  of  a  young 
man.  He  was,  in  some  respects,  of  the  type  of  Stonewall 
Jackson,  and  like  him  combined  the  strongest  Christian  faith 
and  the  deepest  spirituality  with  the  most  intense  spirit  of 
fight. 

As  commander  of  an  artillery  battalion  he  built  up  a 
reputation  second  to  none  for  effective  handling  of  his  guns, 
his  favorite  method,  where  practicable,  being  to  rush  to  close 
quarters  with  the  enemy  and  open  at  the  shortest  possible 
range.  He  admitted  that  it  seemed  deadly,  but  insisted  that 
it  saved  life  in  the  end.  When  stricken  down  he  lived  long 
enough  to  express  his  views  and  feelings,  briefly  but  clearly, 
with  regard  to  both  worlds,  and  there  never  was  a  death 
more  soldierly  or  more  Christian. 

Another,  a  very  different  and  very  racy  character,  who  was 
a  good  deal  talked  about  after  and  in  connection  with  the 
fighting  around  Richmond  in  '62  was  old  "Extra  Billy,"  ex- 
Governor  William  Smith,  of  Virginia,  whom  I  mentioned 
as  prominent  among  the  Southern  members  in  the  Congress 
of  '59-'6o.    He  was  one  of  the  best  specimens  of  the  politi- 


EFFECT  OF  THE  SEVEN   DAYS     BATTLES  III 

cal  general,  rising  ultimately  to  the  rank  of  major-general ;  a 
born  politician,  twice  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth, — 
once  before  and  once  after  this  date, — already  beyond  the 
military  age,  yet  one  of  the  most  devoted  and  enthusiastic 
soldiers  in  the  service.  As  a  soldier  he  was  equally  distin- 
guished for  personal  intrepidity  and  contempt  for  what  he 
called  "tactics"  and  for  educated  and  trained  soldiers,  whom 
he  was  wont  to  speak  of  as  "those  West  P'int  fellows." 

It  is  said  he  used  to  drill  his  regiment  at  Manassas,  sit- 
ting cross-legged  on  the  top  of  an  old  Virginia  snake  fence, 
with  a  blue  cotton  umbrella  over  his  head  and  reading  the 
orders  from  a  book.  On  one  occasion  he  was  roused  by  the 
laughing  outcry,  "Colonel,  you've  run  us  bang  up  against  the 
fence !"  "Well,  then,  boys,"  said  the  old  Governor,  looking 
up  and  nothing  daunted ;  "well,  then,  of  course  you'll  have  to 
turn  around  or  climb  the  fence." 

In  '62  this  story  was  current  about  him, — though  I  do  not 
vouch  for  the  truth  either  of  this  or  of  that  just  related, — 
that  he  was  ordered  to  carry  a  work  and  to  take  his  com- 
mand through  the  abattis  in  front  of  it,  reserving  their  fire. 
The  regiment  started  in,  the  old  Governor  intrepidly  riding 
in  advance.  The  abattis  swarmed  with  sharpshooters  and  his 
men  were  falling  all  about  him,  but  they  followed  on  hero- 
ically. At  last  they  appealed  to  him,  "Colonel,  we  can't 
stand  this,  these  Yankees  will  kill  us  all  before  we  get  in  a 
shot."  It  was  all  the  old  hero  wanted  and  he  blazed  forth : 
"Of  course  you  can't  stand  it,  boys ;  it's  all  this  infernal  tac- 
tics and  West  P'int  tomfoolery.  Damn  it,  fire !  and  flush  the 
game !"  And  they  did,  and  drove  out  the  sharpshooters  and 
carried  the  work. 

My  own  dear  father  is  one  of  the  prominent  figures  in  my 
recollections  of  that  summer  about  Richmond.  He  was  fond 
of  horses,  an  excellent  judge  of  them,  and  used  to  ride  or 
drive  the  very  best  that  could  be  found.  I  say  "ride  or 
drive."  He  was  then  between  sixty-five  and  seventy  years 
of  age  and,  though  vigorous  and  enthusiastic,  found  it  very 
comfortable  to  drive  sometimes ;  but  his  selected  vehicle  was 
at  once  the  most  unclerical  and  unmilitary  that  could  well 
be  imagined — a  regulation  skeleton  "trotting  sulky."     He 


112  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

kept  his  saddle  at  our  battery  and  his  habit  was,  when  we 
were  not  actually  fighting  or  on  the  move,  to  return  to  Rich- 
mond at  night,  coming  down  in  the  morning  with  a  big 
market  basket  strapped  under  his  sulky  full  of  bread  and 
good  things.  His  approach  was  generally  heralded  by  the 
shouts  of  the  soldiers  who  followed;  when,  looking  up  the 
road,  we  would  see  him,  often  standing  on  the  shafts,  scat- 
tering biscuit  and  reading  aloud  the  latest  telegrams.  Hun- 
dreds of  men  would  sometimes  follow  him  to  our  camp,  and 
then  he  would  have  prayers  with  them  and  make  a  brief  re- 
ligious address. 

Coming  in  this  way  one  morning  he  did  not  find  us ;  the 
battle  was  on  and  we  had  gone  to  the  front.  As  he  could  not 
get  his  saddle,  he  kept  right  on  in  his  sulky,  hoping  to  over- 
take us.  In  some  way  he  managed  to  pass  through  and  get 
ahead  of  the  second  line  and  went  on,  actually  between  the 
first  and  second  lines  of  battle,  until  his  further  progress 
was  obstructed  by  a  line  of  works  which  had  been  captured 
by  the  first  line,  when  he  was  forced  to  turn  back,  amidst  a 
storm  of  ridicule  from  the  second  line : 

"That's  right,  old  man ;  this  ain't  no  place  for  you,  nor  for 
me  neither,  if  I  could  only  git  my  colonel  to  think  so !" 

"Say,  mister,  won't  your  buggy  carry  double  ?" 

"Haven't  you  got  a  place  for  me?" 

"Oh,  please,  sir,  take  me  with  you!  I  ain't  feeling  so 
mighty  well  this  morning.    I'm  powerful  weak,  right  now." 

Father  always  followed  the  Scripture  rule  of  "answering  a 
fool  according  to  his  folly,"  and  so  he  jeered  back  at  them, 
telling  them  "good-by,"  but  saying  he'd  be  back  in  a  minute 
— as  he  actually  was,  riding,  bareback  and  blind  bridle,  and 
passing  right  ahead  with  the  troops.  I  have  heard  of  fol- 
lowing a  fox  hunt  in  one  of  these  sulkies,  but  I  venture  to 
say  this  is  the  very  first  time  a  man  ever  entered  battle  in  one. 

It  will  at  once  occur  to  the  reader  as  remarkable  that  father 
was  not  arrested.  He  was,  a  few  days  later,  at  Malvern  Hill, 
by  order  of  Gen.  Rans.  Wright,  of  Georgia,  and  a  staff  of- 
ficer, as  I  recollect,  of  General  Armistead,  told  me  that  he 
was  directed  to  arrest  him  on  one  of  the  earlier  battle-fields 
of  the  Seven  Days,  and  made  the  attempt;  that  up  to  that 


EFFECT  OF  THE  SEVEN   DAYS     BATTLES  113 

time  he  had  regarded  himself  as  a  pretty  daring  rider  and 
scout,  but  that  father,  whom  he  did  not  then  know,  led  him 
such  a  chase  as  he  had  never  before  had,  and  that  he  re- 
turned to  his  general  and  reported  that  he  didn't  believe  there 
was  any  harm  in  that  old  fellow,  though  he  was  certainly  a 
crank,  and  if  he  got  killed  it  would  be  his  own  fault;  but 
that,  unless  positively  so  ordered,  he  didn't  propose  to  get  a 
bullet  through  his  brain  following  that  old  fool  right  up 
to  the  Yankee  skirmish  line. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  my  father  was  a  Christian 
minister,  devoted  to  the  soldiers,  and  a  sort  of  chaplain- 
general  among  them.  He  was  ready  to  whisper  the  conso- 
lations of  religion  in  the  ear  of  a  dying  man,  to  help  the  lit- 
ter bearers,  or  to  carry  a  wounded  man  off  on  his  horse.  Then, 
too,  he  was  well  known  to  many  of  our  generals  to  whom, 
by  the  way,  he  carried  a  vast  amount  of  information  gath- 
ered on  his  daring  scouts  ahead  even  of  our  skirmishers.  I 
myself  heard  two  or  three  of  the  most  prominent  generals 
say  that  it  was  their  belief  my  father  had  seen  more  of  the 
fighting  of  the  Seven  Days,  from  start  to  finish,  than  any 
other  one  man  in  or  out  of  the  army.  I  was  of  course  deeply 
anxious  about  him,  but  he  could  not  be  controlled,  and  my 
belief  was  then,  and  is  now,  that  the  Federal  skirmishers 
often  refrained  from  firing  upon  him  simply  because  they  did 
not  care  at  the  time  to  expose  their  position. 

Many  of  our  soldiers  knew  him,  especially  the  Georgians, 
Virginians  and  Mississippians.  Georgia  was  his  native 
State.  In  his  early  days  he  had  done  a  great  deal  of 
evangelistic  work  in  all  parts  of  it,  and  many  young  men  and 
boys  in  the  army  had  heard  their  parents  speak  of  him.  I 
remember  one  evening,  after  a  most  impressive  sermon  to 
Cobb's  or  Cummings'  brigade,  overhearing  a  lot  of  soldiers 
talking  at  a  spring,  when  one  of  them,  anxious  to  appear  a 
little  more  familiarly  acquainted  with  the  preacher  than  the 
rest,  said,  "I've  heard  my  mother  talk  of  the  old  Doctor 
many  a  time.  I  reckon  the  old  fellow's  given  me  many  a 
dose  of  physic  for  croup." 

An  incident  occurred,  on  or  near  the  Nine-Mile  road, 
some  time  before  the  week  of  battle  opened  which  is  strongly 


114  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

illustrative  at  once  of  my  father's  faith  and  of  the  childlike 
simplicity  of  the  great  bulk  of  our  soldiery.  Two  companies, 
I  think  from  South  Carolina,  were  supporting  a  section  of 
our  battery  in  an  advanced  and  somewhat  isolated  position. 
About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  father  drove  down  from 
Richmond,  and  after  he  had  distributed  his  provisions  and 
talked  with  us  a  while,  proposed  to  have  prayers,  which  was 
readily  acceded  to.  Quite  a  number  of  men  from  the  neigh- 
boring commands  gathered,  and  just  as  we  knelt  and  my 
father  began  his  petitions  the  batteries  across  the  way  sent 
two  or  three  shells  entirely  too  close  to  our  heads  to  be  com- 
fortable— I  presume  just  by  way  of  determining  the  object 
of  this  concourse. 

I  confess  my  faith  and  devotion  were  not  strong  enough 
to  prevent  my  opening  my  eyes  and  glancing  around.  The 
scene  that  met  them  was  almost  too  much  for  my  reverence 
and  came  near  being  fatal  to  my  decorum.  Our  Carolina 
supports,  like  the  rest  of  us,  had  knelt  and  closed  their  eyes 
at  my  father's  invocation  and,  simple-hearted  fellows  that 
they  were,  felt  that  it  would  be  little  less  than  sacrilege  to 
rise  or  to  open  them  until  the  prayer  should  be  completed; 
and  yet  their  faith  was  not  quite  equal  to  assuring  them  of 
God's  protection,  or  at  least  they  felt  it  would  be  wise  and 
well  to  supplement  the  protection  of  heaven  by  the  trees  and 
stumps  of  earth,  if  they  could  find  them,  and  so  they  were 
actually  groping  for  them  with  arms  wide  extended  but 
eyes  tight  closed,  and  still  on  their  knees. 

I  hardly  know  what  might  have  been  the  effect  upon  me 
of  this  almost  impossibly  ludicrous  scene  had  I  not  glanced 
toward  my  father.  As  was  his  habit  in  public  prayer,  he 
was  standing;  his  tall,  majestic  figure  erect  and  his  wor- 
shipful, reverent  face  upturned  to  Heaven.  Not  a  nerve 
trembled,  not  a  note  quavered.  In  a  single  sentence  he  com- 
mitted us  all  to  God's  special  keeping  while  he  worshiped; 
and  then,  evidently,  he  did  worship  and  supplicate  the  Di- 
vine Being  without  the  slightest  further  consciousness  of 
the  bursting  shells,  which  in  a  few  moments  ceased  shriek- 
ing above  or  about  us,  and  our  little  service  closed  without 
further  interruption.  And  then  it  was  beautiful  to  observe 
how  these  simple-hearted  boys  gazed  at  my  father,  as  if  in- 


EFFECT  OF  THE  SEVEN  DAYS*  BATTLES       115 

deed  he  had  been  one  of  the  ancient  prophets;  but  I  heard 
some  of  them  say  they  liked  that  old  preacher  mighty  well, 
but  they  didn't  just  feel  certain  whether  they  wanted  him 
around  having  prayers  so  close  under  the  Yankee  guns ;  that 
he  "didn't  seem  to  pay  hardly  enough  attention  to  them 
things." 

Colonel  Brandon,  father  of  my  Yale  classmate  of  that 
name,  who  was  a  captain  in  the  regiment,  was  lieutenant- 
colonel  of  the  Twenty-first  Mississippi.  He  was  a  dignified, 
majestic-looking  officer  and  a  rigid  disciplinarian,  but  an 
old  man  and  very  stout  and  heavy.  I  do  not  recollect 
whether  Colonel  Humphreys  was  present  at  Malvern  Hill, 
but  Brandon  certainly  went  in  with  his  regiment  when 
the  brigade,  as  I  remember,  unsupported,  made  repeated 
quixotic  efforts  to  capture  the  Federal  guns  massed  on  the 
hill.  They  were  exposed  to  the  fire  I  have  already  described, 
and  of  course  suffered  bloody  repulse.  Colonel  Brandon  had 
his  ankle  shattered  while  the  regiment  was  advancing  in  the 
first  charge.  On  the  way  back  his  men  proposed  to  carry 
him  with  them  to  the  rear,  but  he  refused.  He  was  sitting 
up  and  pluckily  applying  his  handkerchief  as  a  tourniquet 
above  the  wound,  and  he  simply  said:  "Tell  the  Twenty- 
first  they  can't  get  me  till  they  take  those  guns !" 

When  the  line  passed  him  on  the  second  charge,  Brandon 
put  his  hat  on  his  sword,  held  it  up  and  waved  it,  cheering 
the  regiment  on,  but  in  a  few  moments  the  bleeding  remnant 
staggered  to  the  rear  again,  and  again  they  came  for  their 
colonel,  insisting  that  they  must  carry  him  with  them.  The 
old  soldier  actually  drew  his  revolver,  declaring  that  he 
would  shoot  down  any  man  who  laid  hands  upon  him,  and 
he  repeated  his  former  message :  "Tell  the  Twenty-first  they 
can't  get  their  colonel  till  they  take  those  guns !" 

Again  the  charge  swept  by  the  prostrate  old  man,  who 
waved  his  sword  and  his  hat,  urging  his  men  up  the  awful 
slope;  but  when  again  they  returned  to  the  rear  utterly 
broken  and  shattered,  the  old  hero  had  fainted  and  the  litter 
bearers  bore  him  off  the  field. 

I  saw  him  in  Richmond  a  few  days  later.  His  leg  had 
been  amputated  below  the  knee.  He  was  doing  wondrous 
well  physically,  but  was  full  of  deep  dissatisfaction,  mortifi- 


Il6  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

cation  and  rage  about  the  battle.  I  admitted  the  gross  mis- 
management and  was  saying  something  in  extenuation, 
when  the  old  fellow  broke  in : 

"Oh !  it  is  not  mismanagement  that  hurts  me,  sir ;  it  is 
cowardice — the  disgraceful  cowardice  of  our  officers  and 
men." 

I  was  astounded,  and  protested  that  I  saw  nothing  of  this, 
when  he  broke  out  again : 

"Saw  nothing  of  this,  sir?     Why,  I  saw  nothing  else! 

There  is  General ,"  mentioning  a  man  I  never  heard 

mentioned  on  any  other  occasion  save  with  admiration  for 
his  courage  and  devotion.  "Why,  sir,  with  my  own  eyes  I 
saw  him  perceptibly  quicken  his  pace  under  fire  and  that 
right  before  the  men.  And  I  saw  him  visibly  incline  his 
head,  sir,  and  that  right  in  the  presence  of  the  men.  He 
ought  to  be  shot  to  death  for  cowardice." 

I  confess  I  was  utterly  confounded.     I  had  myself  seen 

General  repeatedly  passing  and  repassing  a  knoll 

more  fearfully  torn  by  artillery  fire  perhaps  than  any  other 
spot  of  earth  I  ever  looked  upon.  His  men  were  behind  it — 
he  passed  over  it  and  in  front  of  them.  My  recollection  is 
that  officers  were  not  mounted.  Of  course  he  quickened  his 
pace,  partly  because  his  presence  was  required  first  at  one 
end  of  the  line  and  then  at  the  other ;  but  the  marvel  to  me 
was  that  he  lived  at  all.  As  to  the  inclination  of  his  head, 
all  I  saw  was  that  instinctive  inclination,  equally  natural 
under  a  heavy  fire  and  a  heavy  rain.     When  I  recalled  the 

scene  and  the  heroic  conduct  of  General ,  I  remember 

saying  to  myself, 

"What  is  the  true  standard  of  courage?" 

There  were  a  number  of  Yale  men  in  the  Twenty-first 
Mississippi,  among  others  two  brothers,  Jud.  and  Carey 
Smith.  We  used  to  call  Jud.  "Indian  Smith"  at  Yale.  I 
think  it  was  at  Savage  Station,  when  the  Seventeenth  and 
Twenty-first  Mississippi  were  put  into  the  woods  at  night- 
fall and  directed  to  lie  down,  that  Carey  Smith,  the  younger 
brother,  putting  his  hand  in  his  bosom,  found  it  covered  with 
blood,  when  he  withdrew  it,  and  saying:  "What  does  this 
mean?"  instantly  died.  He  had  been  mortally  wounded 
without  knowing  when. 


EFFECT  OF  THE  SEVEN  DAYS'"  BATTLES       117 

Judson  Smith  went  almost  deranged;  yes,  I  think  alto- 
gether deranged.  He  bore  his  dead  brother  out  of  the  woods. 
His  company  and  regimental  officers  proposed  to  send  the 
body  to  Richmond  in  an  ambulance  and  urged  Judson  to  go 
with  it.  He  refused  both  propositions.  He  kept  the  body 
folded  to  his  bosom,  and  all  through  the  night  his  comrades 
heard  Judson  kissing  Carey  and  talking  to  him  and  petting 
him,  and  then  sobbing  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  Next 
morning  he  consented  to  have  his  brother's  body  sent  to 
Richmond,  but  refused  to  go  himself.  When  the  regiment 
moved  he  kissed  Carey  again  and  again,  and  then  left  him, 
following  the  column  all  day  alone,  allowing  no  one  to  com- 
fort him  or  even  to  speak  to  him.  So  that  night  he  lay 
down  alone,  not  accepting  the  proffered  sympathy  and  min- 
istrations of  his  friends,  and  resumed  his  solitary  march  in 
the  morning. 

That  was  Malvern  Hill  day,  and  when  the  regiment,  on 
its  first  charge,  stopped  ascending  that  fearful  slope  of 
death  and  turned  back,  Jud.  Smith  did  not  stop.  He  went 
right  on,  never  returned  and  was  never  seen  or  heard  of 
again. 

The  family  was  one  of  wealth  and  position  in  Mississippi, 
the  father  an  old  man,  and  having  only  these  two  boys. 
When  he  heard  of  the  loss  of  both  almost  in  one  day  he 
left  home,  joined  Price's  army  as  a  private  soldier,  and  at 
Iuka  did  just  as  his  eldest  son  had  done  at  Malvern  Hill, 
which  was  the  last  ever  seen  or  heard  of  him,  and  the  family 
became  extinct. 

Walking  over  the  field  of  Malvern  Hill  the  morning  after 
the  battle,  I  saw  two  young  Federal  soldiers  lying  dead,  side 
by  side,  their  heads  upon  the  same  knapsack  and  their  arms 
about  each  other.  They  were  evidently  brothers  and  enough 
alike  to  be  twins.  The  whole  pathetic  story  was  plainly  evi- 
dent. One  had  first  been  wounded,  perhaps  killed,  and  when 
the  other  was  struck  he  managed  to  get  to  his  dead  or  dying 
brother,  placed  the  knapsack  under  his  head,  and  then  lying 
down  by  him  and  resting  his  head  on  the  same  rude  pillow, 
slipped  his  dying  arms  around  his  brother's  body  and  slept 
in  this  embrace. 


CHAPTER  X 

SECOND   MANASSAS SHARPSBURG FREDERICKSBURG 

Not  at  Second  Manassas  or  Sharpsburg — A  Glimpse  of  Richmond  in 
the  Summer  of  '62 — Col.  Willis,  of  the  Twelfth  Georgia — Jackson  in 
the  Railroad  Cut  at  Manassas — Sharpsburg  the  Hardest  Fought  of 
Lee's  Battles,  Fredericksburg  the  Easiest  Won  —  The  Mississippi 
Brigade  Entertains  a  Baby — A  Conscript's  First  Fight — Magnifi- 
cent Spectacle  When  Fog  Curtain  Rose — Aurora  Borealis  at  Close 
of  the  Drama. 

I  was  not  with  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  from  the 
time  it  left  Richmond  moving  north  after  the  Seven  Days' 
battles  until  it  returned  to  Virginia  after  the  invasion  of 
Maryland ;  thus  I  missed  the  campaign  against  Pope  and  the 
first  Maryland  campaign,  the  great  battles  of  second  Ma- 
nassas and  Sharpsburg,  or  Antietam.  No  soldier  can  expect 
to  be  present  for  duty  in  all  the  battles  of  a  protracted  war — 
sickness,  wounds,  and  capture  will  naturally  prevent.  But 
the  fact  is,  I  was  that  exceptionally  fortunate  soldier  who 
never  experienced  either  disabling  sickness  or  wounds  or 
captivity  until  the  very  end  of  the  struggle,  and  my  absence 
from  the  active  front  is  to  be  accounted  for  on  other  grounds. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  at  Malvern  Hill  several  of  the 
guns  of  our  battery,  my  gun  among  them,  were  so  roughly 
handled  by  the  concentrated  fire  of  the  Federal  artillery  that 
we  were  compelled  to  send  them  to  Richmond  to  be  recast 
and  remounted.  This  could  not  be  done  in  time  to  enable 
the  battery  to  move  with  the  army  when  it  marched  against 
Pope.  One  section  was  equipped  a  little  later  and  caught 
up  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  battle  of  Sharpsburg.  But  this 
was  not  my  section,  and  the  captain  would  not  permit  me  to 
leave  with  the  section  first  ready.  Therefore  I  saw  nothing 
of  the  campaigns  against  Pope  in  Virginia  and  McClellan  in 
Maryland,  and  if  I  am  to  keep  to  the  general  line  of  reminis- 


RICHMOND SUMMER  OF  '62  II9 

cence  I  must  simply  omit  the  late  summer  and  early  autumn 
of  '62,  for  of  course  nothing  of  general  interest  occurred 
while  we  were  hanging  about  Richmond  waiting  for  a  new 
equipment.  We  had  not  yet,  to  any  great  extent,  equipped 
our  artillery,  as  we  did  later,  especially  in  the  Manassas  and 
Maryland  campaigns,  by  captures  from  the  armies  opposed 
to  us. 

I  have  said  nothing  worth  recording  occurred  during  our 
stay  around  Richmond.  The  statement  should  be  modified 
so  far  as  to  say  that  one  of  the  noticeable  features  of  the 
general  condition  was  the  heartrending  affliction  of  my 
friends,  almost  every  family  having  lost  a  relative,  or  some 
intimate  associate,  during  the  week  of  bloody  battle.  It  had 
not,  however,  yet  come  to  pass,  as  it  did  later,  that  black  be- 
came the  recognized  dress  for  woman  in  Richmond,  and  that 
she  actually  appeared  flippant  and  worldly  and  unfeeling  if 
she  wore  any  color.  In  the  second  Punic  war,  when  Han- 
nibal was  investing  Rome,  the  tribune  Oppius  had  a  law 
enacted  forbidding  women  to  wear  colors  during  the  public 
distress.  But  in  our  great  conflict  no  such  enactment  was 
necessary,  for  the  devoted  women  of  our  seven-hilled  city; 
dark  death  had  entered  every  home  and  his  sombre  garb  was 
everywhere. 

Of  course,  too,  the  hospitals  were  crowded  just  at  this 
time,  and  in  the  homes  of  citizens  many  wounded  soldiers 
were  cared  for ;  so  that  it  seemed  the  one  fitting  province  of 
women,  young  and  old,  to  serve  as  nurses  and  attendants 
upon  the  wounded  and  the  dying.  I  think,  too,  though  I  am 
not  sure,  that  the  churches  had  already  begun  to  give  their 
bells  to  be  moulded  into  cannon.  Certainly,  long  before 
the  end  of  the  war,  the  people  of  Richmond  went  to  church 
through  silent  streets,  and  ceased  to  hear  that  heavenliest  of 
all  earthly  sounds,  which  runs  like  a  holy  refrain  through 
the  sweetest  poetry  and  the  tenderest  memories  of  English- 
speaking  peoples. 

To  me  these  weeks  around  Richmond  meant  more  than  I 
can  express  in  welding  the  links  that  bound  me  to  these  dear 
people.  I  had  dedicated  my  life  to  them — I  was  theirs  and 
they  were  mine.     I  felt  it;  they  felt  it.     Yes,  these  people 


120  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

were  my  friends,  this  city  was  my  home.  Our  mother  and 
sisters  had  not  yet  been  able  to  get  South,  but  the  faithful 
people  of  my  father's  former  pastoral  charge  assured  me 
that  they  stood  ready  to  receive  and  care  for  them  with  open 
hearts  in  open  homes,  and,  until  they  arrived,  noble  women 
stood  ready,  in  case  my  brother  or  I  should  need  such  minis- 
trations, to  do,  as  far  as  possible,  a  mother's  and  a  sister's 
part  by  us. 

While  I  have  of  course  no  personal  reminiscence  to  relate 
either  of  the  Manassas  or  the  Maryland  campaign  of  '62, 
yet  an  account  was  given  me  of  the  very  crisis  and  climax 
of  the  former,  in  its  essential  character  and  all  its  surround- 
ings so  striking,  that  I  feel  called  upon  to  make  record  of 
it.  I  actually  did  so,  indeed,  while  a  prisoner  at  Johnson's 
Island  in  1865,  and  now  use  the  memorandum  then  made. 

One  of  the  most  promising  of  the  younger  officers  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia  in  the  spring  of  '64  was  Col. 
Edward  Willis,  of  the  Twelfth  Georgia  Regiment.  I  saw 
him  but  once  and  under  the  following  circumstances :  Our 
battery  passed  the  winter  of  '63~'64,  not  in  the  great  artillery 
camp  on  the  Central  Railroad,  but  with  the  advanced  line  of 
infantry  guarding  the  middle  fords  of  the  Rapidan  River. 
Battalion  headquarters  were  in  a  pine  thicket  between  Rac- 
coon and  Morton's  fords.  One  beautiful  day  in  the  early 
spring  I  was  seated  in  our  headquarters'  tent  at  work  on 
one  of  the  battalion  reports,  which  it  was  my  duty,  as  adju- 
tant, to  make  to  Artillery  Headquarters,  when  a  very  strik- 
ing-looking head  intruded  itself  in  the  tent  door  and,  in  a 
very  nonchalant,  familiar  tone,  the  owner  of  the  head  asked, 
"Is  Gibbes  about?" 

We  were  not  very  punctilious  about  such  matters  in  the 
Confederate  service,  perhaps  not  enough  so ;  but  the  intruder 
and  interlocutor  was  obviously,  I  thought,  a  private  soldier 
and  a  specially  untidy  looking  one  at  that — his  hat  unques- 
tionably'^ slouch,"  his  hair  long  and  unkempt,  his  long  over- 
coat, of  whatever  original  ground  color,  now  by  long  usage 
the  color  of  the  ground,  and  ending  in  a  fringe  of  tatters 
around  the  skirt ;  under  it  no  sign  of  a  coat  or  of  anything 
save  a  gray  flannel  shirt,  no  badge  or  insignia  of  rank  any- 


SECOND    MANASSAS  121 

where  visible,  nor  even  an  appropriate  place  for  any,  and  his 
badly-worn  pants  turned  up  around  his  very  small  feet  shod 
in  very  rough  shoes.  I  say  it  did  stir  me  a  little  unpleasantly 
that  just  this  man  should  ask,  in  just  these  words  and  just 
this  tone,  for  Major  Wade  Hampton  Gibbes,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, a  young  West  Pointer,  who  had  recently  been  assigned 
to  duty  with  us.  I  might  have  answered  differently  had  not 
a  second  glance  revealed  a  face  of  such  commanding  intel- 
lect and  personal  force  that  I  said,  "If  you  will  wait  a  mo- 
ment, I'll  see,"  and  a  moment  later  the  very  effusive  meeting 
between  Gibbes  and  himself,  and  Gibbes'  introduction,  to 
Colonel  Cabell  and  myself,  of  "Col.  Edward  Willis,  of  the 
Twelfth  Georgia,"  made  me  very  glad  I  had  answered 
as  I  had.  They  had  been  at  West  Point  together,  I  think, 
when  the  war  broke  out.  Gibbes  seated  himself,  tailor 
fashion,  at  one  end  of  a  large  box  of  clothing  for  one  of  the 
batteries,  which  had  not  yet  been  opened,  and  Willis  stretch- 
ed out  on  the  box  and  put  his  head  in  Gibbes'  lap,  who  began 
running  his  fingers  through  the  long,  tangled,  tawny  hair, 
which  hung  almost  to  Willis'  shoulders.  It  would  have 
been  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  the  hair  if  Gibbes  had  used 
a  comb  instead  of  his  fingers. 

They  began  talking  of  their  West  Point  classmates  and 
comrades.  I  was  going  on  with  my  work  and  not  listening 
closely,  yet  I  could  not  help  being  struck  with  the  vigor  and 
the  trenchant  quality  of  Willis'  characterization  of  the  men. 
But  in  a  few  moments  he  began  telling  of  Jackson,  and  then 
I  dropped  my  pen  and  hung  eagerly  on  his  words.  I  knew 
he  had  been  on  Jackson's  staff  and  hoped  he  would  tell,  as 
he  did,  how  he  came  to  leave  it. 

He  said  that  after  Second  Manassas,  perhaps  after  Sharps- 
burg,  Jackson  sent  for  him  and  said :  "Captain  Willis,  you 
have  earned  your  promotion,  sir.  You  may  take  your  choice 
between  continued  service  on  my  staff,  with  the  rank  of 
major,  and  a  majority  in  an  infantry  regiment." 

To  which  Willis,  without  hesitation,  replied :  "I'll  take 
the  infantry  regiment,  General." 

A  reply  which  revealed  the  mettle  of  the  man,  as  Jackson 
indicated  by  saying:     "Sorry  to  lose  you,  sir;  but  you've 


122  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

made  a  soldier's  choice;  you'll  be  assigned  to  duty  with  the 
Twelfth  Georgia." 

Ere  long  he  became  colonel  of  the  regiment,  and  at  the 
time  of  which  I  write  it  was  well  understood  throughout  the 
army  that  no  one  commanded  a  better  regiment  and  no  regi- 
ment had  a  better  commanding  officer  than  the  Twelfth 
Georgia. 

Soon  Willis  began  to  talk  of  the  campaign  against  Pope, 
which  he  regarded  as  Jackson's  masterpiece,  and  as  he  had 
been  closely  with  Jackson  through  it  all,  I  considered  what 
he  said  of  value,  as  it  certainly  was  of  surpassing  interest. 
He  first  expatiated  at  some  length  upon  the  masterly — I  had 
almost  said  dastardly — way  in  which  Jackson  managed  to 
find  out  all  Pope's  plans  and  purposes,  and  yet  to  elude  and 
delude  and  deceive  and  defraud  him  in  the  most  heartless 
and  malignant  fashion  as  to  his  own  movements  and  designs. 
Part  of  the  time,  while  waiting  for  Lee  and  Longstreet, 
Jackson  was  in  extreme  peril,  dodging  between  and  against 
the  huge  Federal  Army  corps,  rushing  blindly  like  ava- 
lanches to  crush  him.  On  one  or  two  occasions,  I  think 
Willis  said,  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  sacrifice  his  skirmish 
line,  that  is,  arrange  to  have  them  captured  by  Pope's  troops 
in  a  particular  position,  from  which  even  the  skirmishers 
themselves,  as  well  as  their  captors,  would  naturally  infer 
that  "Old  Jack"  was  marching  in  a  certain  direction  and 
about  a  certain  time  would  be  about  a  certain  place,  when 
quite  the  reverse  was  the  actual  truth.  In  short,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  all  of  Jackson's  dealings  with  Pope,  about 
this  time,  were  disingenuous  in  the  extreme.  Someone,  not 
Willis,  has  said  substantially  that  they  embodied  a  con- 
tinuous, tortuous,  twisted,  aggravated,  protracted  lie — over 
fifty  miles  long. 

But  at  last,  as  Willis  said,  all  these  tactics  of  deception 
were  exhausted!  Jackson  was  straight  in  front,  in  the  fa- 
mous position  in  the  railroad  cut,  and  Pope's  whole  army 
moved  upon  him.  They  advanced  in  imposing  array,  with 
several  lines  of  battle — bands  playing,  flags  flying,  and  their 
artillery,  following  the  second  line,  slowly  firing  as  they  ap- 
proached.   Just  as  his  dispositions — the  best  he  could  make 


SECOND    MANASSAS  1 23 

for  resisting  such  an  onslaught — were  complete,  Jackson 
heard  from  Longstreet,  who  promised  him  aid  in  two  hours. 
The  shock  could  be  delayed,  however,  only  a  few  moments, 
and  Jackson,  feeling  the  imminence  of  the  crisis,  started 
down  his  lines  to  communicate  to  his  troops,  worn  with  fa- 
tigue and  suspense,  his  own  heaven-born  faith  and  fire  and 
Longstreet's  assurance  of  help.  I  understood  from  Willis 
that  he  rode  along  the  line  with  him,  and  that  all  he  said 
was: 

"Two  hours,  men,  only  two  hours ;  in  two  hours  you  will 
have  help.    You  must  stand  it  two  hours." 

It  was  the  crisis  of  the  campaign,  and  both  sides  fully  ap- 
preciated it.  The  enemy  came  right  on  until  within  two 
hundred  yards,  and  then  broke  into  the  rush  of  the  charge. 
The  officer  commanding  the  leading  centre  brigade,  and  who 
was  riding  a  powerful  coal-black  charger,  carried  the  colors 
in  his  hand  and  rested  the  staff  on  the  toe  of  his  boot.  Strik- 
ing his  spurs  deep  into  the  flanks  of  his  horse,  at  the  same 
time  reining  him  in,  Willis  said  he  came  on,  with  great 
plunges,  the  standard  flapping  about  him  and  the  standard 
bearer,  cap  in  hand,  yelling  at  his  side.  The  whole  line  thus 
gallantly  led,  rushed  upon  Jackson's  men  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  assured  victory. 

A  hundred  yards  nearer  and  the  full  fire  from  Jackson's 
line  burst  upon  them,  but  from  the  inclination  of  the  musket 
barrels  it  looked  as  if  the  gallant  fellow  on  the  black  horse 
would  be  the  only  man  to  fall.  On  the  contrary,  while  many 
fell  and  the  line  wavered,  he  was  miraculously  unhurt,  and 
his  men  rallied  and  pressed  on  after  him.  For  a  moment  it 
looked  as  if  he  would  actually  leap  into  the  cut  upon  his 
foes,  but  the  next  moment  the  great  horse  reared  wildly  and 
fell  backward,  but  his  heroic  rider  jammed  the  color  staff 
into  the  earth  as  he  went  down,  only  ten  yards  from  the  muz- 
zles of  Jackson's  muskets.  The  spell  that  held  them  together 
was  broken,  the  advancing  lines  halted  and  wavered  through- 
out their  length — a  moment  more  and  the  whole  magnificent 
array  had  melted  into  a  mass  of  fugitives. 

Again  Jackson  rode  down  his  lines :  "Half  an  hour  men, 
only  half  an  hour;  can  you  stand  it  half  an  hour?" 


124  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

And  now,  as  Willis  said,  it  seemed  as  if  some  of  his  men 
exhaled  their  very  souls  to  him  in  shouts,  while  others,  too 
much  exhausted  to  cheer,  took  off  their  hats  and  gazed  at 
him  in  adoration  as  he  passed.  The  enemy,  reformed,  began 
again  to  advance,  and  Jackson  quickened  his  horse's  gait. 
"They  are  coming  once  more,  men ;  you  must  stand  it  once 
more;  you  must  stand  it  half  an  hour." 

Could  they  have  stood  it  ?  We  shall  never  know — for  be- 
fore the  mighty  wave  broke  again  into  the  crest  and  foam  of 
the  actual  charge,  the  Texas  brigade  was  in  on  Jackson's 
right  and  Old  Pete  and  Old  Jack  together  swept  them  in  the 
counter-charge  like  chaff  before  the  whirlwind. 

I  have  not  pretended  to  give  Colonel  Willis'  exact  words, 
and  yet  in  my  memorandum  account  of  his  visit  to  our  camp 
above  referred  to  I  incorporated  his  words  as  nearly  as  I 
could  recall  them,  and  I  have  now  conformed  very  closely  to 
that  memorandum.  I  never  listened  to  more  vivid  delinea- 
tion of  strategy  or  of  battle.  He  was  thoroughly  stirred 
while  uttering  it,  and  its  impression  upon  us  may  be  gath- 
ered from  Colonel  Cabell's  words  as  he  and  Gibbes  and  I 
stood  watching  Willis  as  his  figure  disappeared  in  the  thick 
pines :  "Stiles,  there  goes  the  only  man  I  ever  saw  who,  I 
think,  by  possibility  might  make  another  Jackson!" 

In  less  than  a  month  from  that  time  he  was  made  a  briga- 
dier-general, for  brilliant  service  on  the  field,  and  the  very 
next  day  yielded  up  his  glorious  young  life  in  battle. 

Willis'  name  is  not  to  be  found  on  the  roster  of  Confeder- 
ate general  officers,  but  there  is  no  doubt  about  the  facts  of 
his  promotion  and  death.  The  circumstances  are  entirely 
familiar  to  me  and  are  full  of  touching  and  tragic  interest. 
These  lists  of  Confederate  officers  are  very  imperfect.  My 
Uncle  William  and  my  Cousin  Edward,  mentioned  in  these 
reminiscences,  are  both  entered  on  the  list  of  field  officers, 
but  my  name  is  not  mentioned. 

While  I  do  not  regard  discussions  as  to  the  purposes  and 
success  or  failure  of  campaigns,  or  the  comparative  numbers 
engaged  on  the  two  sides,  as  properly  within  the  general  scope 
of  this  book,  yet  I  shall  occasionally,  when  the  matter  is  of  spe- 
cial interest,  or  I  hope  to  be  able  to  add  something  of  special 


SHARPSBURG  1 25 

value,  do  violence  to  these  declared  views — so  I  here  take 
the  liberty  of  saying  that  it  is  by  no  means  admitted  among 
intelligent  Confederate  soldiers  that  the  only  or  the  main  de- 
sign of  the  first  Maryland  campaign  was  to  stir  up  revolt  in 
Maryland  or  to  recruit  our  army  by  enlistment  there.  It  is 
not  disputed  that  these  may  have  been  among  the  objects 
sought  to  be  accomplished,  nor  that,  so  far  as  this  is  true, 
the  campaign  was  a  failure.  The  Confederate  view  of  the 
matter,  from  a  military  standpoint,  is  in  brief  this : 

By  our  invasion  of  Maryland  we  cleared  Virginia  of  ene- 
mies, sending  them  home  to  defend  their  own  capital  and 
their  own  borders.  We  subsisted  our  army  for  a  time  out- 
side our  own  worn-out  territory.  We  gathered  large  quanti- 
ties of  badly-needed  supplies,  to  a  great  extent  fitting  out  our 
troops  with  improved  firearms,  in  place  of  the  old  smooth- 
bore muskets,  and  replacing  much  of  our  inferior  field  ar- 
tillery with  improved  guns.  At  Harper's  Ferry  alone  we 
captured  eleven  thousand  prisoners,  seventy-three  pieces  of 
artillery,  thirteen  thousand  stand  of  excellent  small  arms  and 
immense  stores;  besides  all  which,  we  delayed  further  im- 
mediate invasion  of  Virginia;  indeed,  as  has  been  strongly 
said : 

Such  had  been  the  moral  effect  upon  the  enemy  that  the  Confederate 
capital  was  never  again  seriously  endangered  until  the  power  of  the  Con- 
federacy had  been  so  broken  in  other  quarters,  and  its  available  terri- 
tory so  reduced  in  dimensions,  that  the  enemy  could  concentrate  his  im- 
mense resources  against  the  capital. 

One  word  now  as  to  the  numbers  engaged  at  Sharpsburg. 
This  battle  has  been  much  misunderstood.  It  was  really  the 
most  superb  fight  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  ever  made. 
This  will  readily  appear  when  we  recall  the  fact  that  General 
McClellan  in  his  official  report  says  that  he  had  actually 
present  for  duty  on  the  field  that  day  eighty-seven  thousand 
one  hundred  and  sixty- four  (87,164)  men  of  all  arms. 
General  Early  thinks  he  had  ninety-three  thousand  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-nine  (93,149),  while  Colonel  Taylor  says 
and  shows  that  General  Lee  had  less  than  thirty-five  thou- 
sand two  hundred  and  fifty-five  (35,255)  ;  Early  says  less 


126  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

than  thirty  thousand  (30,000).  Take  it  even  at  thirty-five 
thousand  (35,000)  and  eighty-seven  thousand  (87,000), 
and  remember  that  General  Lee  remained  on  the  field  all  the 
day  following  the  battle ;  that  McClellan  did  not  attack  him, 
and  states  in  his  testimony  before  the  Committee  on  the 
Conduct  of  the  War  (Reports,  Vol.  2,  Part  1,  1862-3,  P- 
441 )  as  the  reason  therefor,  that : 

The  next  morning  (the  18th)  I  found  that  our  loss  had  been  so  great 
and  that  there  was  so  much  disorganization  in  some  of  the  commands 
that  I  did  not  consider  it  proper  to  renew  the  attack  that  day,  especially 
as  I  was  sure  of  the  arrival  that  day  of  two  fresh  divisions  amounting 
to  about  15,000  men. 

Two  further  remarks,  and  we  leave  this  part  of  the  story 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  of  which  I  am  not  able 
to  say  quorum  pars  fui.  And,  first,  that  General  McClellan's 
part  in  all  this  campaign  appears  to  have  been  greatly  to  his 
credit  and  honor.  Summoned  by  the  President  and  begged 
to  see  if  he  could  not,  by  his  personal  influence,  do  something 
to  heal  the  discords  and  want  of  union  and  cohesion  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac ;  then  asked  to  take  charge  of  it  again 
himself;  then,  with  wondrous  vigor  gathering  a  composite 
army  and  unifying  and  enheartening  it;  and  lastly,  so  hand- 
ling it,  on  the  march  and  in  the  field,  as  to  save  the  Federal 
capital  and  to  clear  Northern  soil  of  invasion. 

But  one  incident  must  not  be  forgotten :  McClellan  was  in- 
spired and  enabled  to  march  with  such  unwonted  speed,  to 
move  with  such  unerring  judgment  and  to  fight  with  such 
tremendous  vigor  and  pertinacity  by  the  contents  of  a  little 
paper  which  was  picked  up  by  a  Federal  soldier  in  one  of  our 
deserted  camps,  and  which  turned  out  to  be  a  copy  sent  to 
one  of  our  division  commanders  of  General  Lee's  order  of 
battle  and  of  campaign,  showing  in  detail  the  position  and 
duty  assigned  to  each  important  command  in  the  army, 
and  of  course  just  how  our  force  was  divided.  There  is  no 
doubt  as  to  the  facts.  McClellan  recites  them  in  his  testi- 
mony above  referred  to,  p.  440,  and  speaks  of  the  effect  of 
this  order  upon  his  movements.  It  was  well  understood 
among  us.    As  Colonel  Taylor  says : 


FREDERICKSBURG  1 27 

The  God  of  battles  alone  knows  what  would  have  occurred  but  for  the 
singular  incident  mentioned;  it  is  useless  to  speculate  on  this  point,  but 
certainly  the  loss  of  this  battle  order  constitutes  one  of  the  pivots  on 
which  turned  the  event  of  the  war. 

Again  Culpeper  Court  House  is  the  appointed  trysting 
place  of  the  army,  while  waiting  fuller  development  of  the 
plan  of  General  Burnside,  the  new  commander  of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac,  and  we,  the  right  section,  having  at  last 
gotten  our  new  equipment  of  guns,  had  a  delightful  march 
thither  through  a  country  full  of  good  things  and  kind 
people,  in  the  season  of  harvest  and  of  fruit.  Here,  too, 
we  met,  with  great  rejoicing,  our  comrades  of  the  left  sec- 
tion, from  whom  we  had  been  separated  during  the  Ma- 
nassas and  Maryland  campaigns;  and  from  this  point  were 
ordered,  about  the  19th  of  November,  to  Fredericksburg,  in 
connection  with  Longstreet's  corps,  arriving  there  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  21st,  marching  the  last  day  through  one 
of  the  steadiest,  heaviest,  and  coldest  downpours  of  au- 
tumnal rain  I  ever  experienced.  As  the  Federal  batteries  of 
heavy  guns  on  Falmouth  and  Stafford  Heights  commanded 
almost  the  entire  southern  bank  of  the  river  and  particularly 
the  road  by  which  we  would  naturally  enter  the  town,  and 
as  it  was  specially  desired  that  they  should  not  be  apprised 
of  our  arrival,  we  were  halted  just  outside  the  town  and 
back  of  the  point  of  a  hill,  until  after  nightfall,  and  then 
marched  to  a  dark  and  desolate  bivouac,  without  fire  and 
without  food,  and  frozen  to  the  very  soul — the  more  so  as 
we  had  of  course  steamed  up  while  walking.  I  recall  this 
as  one  of  the  most  comfortless  and  trying  nights  of  my  life, 
and  yet  so  sound  and  tough  were  we  that  I  do  not  recall  that 
a  single  man  of  us  wheezed,  or  even  sneezed,  from  the  ex- 
posure. 

In  a  few  days,  everything  appearing  to  be  quiet  at  the 
front,  we  were  sent  down  into  Caroline  County,  along  and 
near  the  R.  F.  &  P.  Railroad,  to  go  into  camp  for  the  win- 
ter. We  selected  an  ideal  position,  went  vigorously  to  work 
and  built  the  very  best  shelters  for  our  horses  and  cabins 
for  ourselves  that  we  ever  put  up  anywhere ;  but  hardly  had 
they  been  completed,  tried,  pronounced  eminently  satisfac- 


128  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

tory  and  christened  "Sleepy  Hollow,"  when  orders  came 
for  us  to  return  at  once  to  Fredericksburg,  and  that  through 
a  blizzard  of  most  inclement  weather.  Of  course  we  went 
and  without  delay — I  cannot  say  absolutely  without  grum- 
bling. Indeed  the  right  to  grumble  is  the  only  civil,  politi- 
cal, or  social  right  left  to  the  soldier,  and  he  stands  much  in 
his  own  light  if  he  does  not  exercise  it  to  the  full.  We 
found  rather  an  uncomfortable  and  forbidding  location  se- 
lected for  us  outside  of  Fredericksburg,  and  we  were  in  a 
temper  too  bad  to  do  much  for  its  improvement,  so  that, 
as  to  external  conditions,  we  had  rather  a  hard,  comfortless 
winter;  though,  even  as  to  these,  we  perhaps  did  better 
than  the  commands  who  were  ordered  to  the  front  later. 

The  next  incident  of  interest  was  the  bombardment  of  the 
old  town,  but  I  do  not  care  to  enlarge  upon  this.  Really  I 
saw  then  and  see  now  no  justification  for  it.  True  the  town 
was  occupied  by  armed  men, — Barksdale  and  his  men,  our 
old  brigade, — but  then  the  fire  did  not  drive  them  out ;  in  the 
nature  of  things,  and  especially  of  the  Mississippi  brigade, 
of  course  it  would  not,  and  it  did  drive  out  the  women  and 
children,  many  of  them.  I  never  saw  a  more  pitiful  proces- 
sion than  they  made  trudging  through  the  deep  snow,  after 
the  warning  was  given  and  as  the  hour  drew  near.  I  saw 
little  children  tugging  along  with  their  doll  babies, — some 
bigger  than  they  were, — but  holding  their  feet  up  carefully 
above  the  snow,  and  women  so  old  and  feeble  that  they  could 
carry  nothing  and  could  barely  hobble  themselves.  There 
were  women  carrying  a  baby  in  one  arm  and  its  bottle,  its 
clothes,  and  its  covering  in  the  other.  Some  had  a  Bible 
and  a  tooth  brush  in  one  hand,  a  picked  chicken  and  a  bag  of 
flour  in  the  other.  Most  of  them  had  to  cross  a  creek  swollen 
with  winter  rains,  and  deadly  cold  with  winter  ice  and  snow. 
We  took  the  battery  horses  down  and  ferried  them  over,  tak- 
ing one  child  in  front  and  two  behind  and  sometimes  a 
woman  or  a  girl  on  either  side  with  her  feet  in  the  stirrups, 
holding  on  by  our  shoulders.  Where  they  were  going  we 
could  not  tell,  and  I  doubt  if  they  could. 

I  was  about  to  say  that  the  armed  men  had  orders  to  come 
out,  and  would  have  done  so  at  the  proper  time.     But  I  am 


FREDERICKSBURG  1 29 

not  so  sure  about  this,  and  certainly  can't  blame  the  Federals 
for  not  knowing  it,  when  we  really  couldn't  get  the  plaguey 
Mississippians  to  understand  it  themselves.  They  were 
ready  to  fight  anything,  from  his  Satanic  Majesty  down; 
but  they  were  a  very  poor  set  indeed  as  to  judging  when 
not  to  fight,  or  when  to  stop  fighting.  Why,  there  was 
Colonel  Fizer,  of  the  Seventeenth.  He  was  down  on  the 
river  bank  below  the  town.  Of  course  he  must  have  had 
retiring  orders  and  ought  to  have  seen  that  the  Federal  bat- 
teries absolutely  dominated  our  shore ;  and  yet  he  sent  word 
to  General  Barksdale  that  if  he  would  just  let  the  Howitzers 
come  down,  with  a  couple  of  their  guns,  he  could  "drive 
these  people  back  anyhow."  And  "Old  Barksdale,"  who 
was  every  bit  as  bad  as  Fizer,  and  a  little  worse,  actually 
sent  the  order,  and  our  boys  actually  started.  It  would 
have  been  a  practical  impossibility  to  get  these  two  poor 
little  guns  anywhere  near  the  river.  No  two  fragments  of 
guns  or  men  would  have  held  together  five  minutes  after 
they  appeared  on  the  plain  that  stretched  out  from  the  foot 
of  the  hills  to  the  river  and  their  intentions  became  known 
to  the  batteries  on  Stafford  Heights.  Fortunately,  our  divi- 
sion general,  McLaws,  and  his  staff  met  the  guns  just  be- 
fore they  emerged  on  the  plain,  and  the  general  demanded  of 
the  officer  in  charge  where  we  were  going  and  by  whose 
order,  and,  on  being  told,  instantly  countermanded  the  order 
and  sent  us  back.  It  is  fair  to  say  for  General  Barksdale 
that  when  our  captain  galloped  rapidly  into  town  and  ex- 
plained the  matter  to  him,  he  himself  withdrew  his  own 
order;  but  General  McLaws  had  already  acted.  The  inci- 
dent strongly  accentuated  the  necessity  for  the  battalion  or- 
ganization of  the  artillery,  and  in  our  case  it  was  put  into 
immediate  effect,  I  think,  just  after  the  battle. 

But  Fizer  was  not  the  only  officer  of  the  Mississippi 
brigade  that  could  not  get  it  into  his  head,  even  a  little  later, 
that  the  troops  were  to  abandon  the  town  and  retire  before 
the  enemy,  who  had  now  gotten  their  pontoons  down,  and 
the  head  of  their  column  landed  in  the  town.  The  brigade 
had  been  hospitably  received  by  the  citizens  and  its  blood 
was  up  in  their  defense. 


I30  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

The  Twenty-first  Mississippi  was  the  last  regiment  to 
leave  the  city.  The  last  detachment  was  under  the  command 
of  Lane  Brandon,  already  mentioned  as  my  quondam  class- 
mate at  Yale,  and  son  of  old  Colonel  Brandon,  of  the 
Twenty-first,  who  behaved  so  heroically  at  Malvern  Hill. 
In  skirmishing  with  the  head  of  the  Federal  column — led,  I 
think,  by  the  Twentieth  Massachusetts — Brandon  captured 
a  few  prisoners  and  learned  that  the  advance  company  was 
commanded  by  Abbott,  who  had  been  his  chum  at  Harvard 
Law  School  when  the  war  began. 

He  lost  his  head  completely.  He  refused  to  retire  before 
Abbott.  He  fought  him  fiercely  and  was  actually  driving 
him  back.  In  this  he  was  violating  orders  and  breaking  our 
plan  of  battle.  He  was  put  under  arrest  and  his  subaltern 
brought  the  command  out  of  town. 

Buck  Denman, — our  old  friend  Buck,  of  Leesburg  and 
Fort  Johnston  fame, — a  Mississippi  bear  hunter  and  a  su- 
perb specimen  of  manhood,  was  color  sergeant  of  the 
Twenty-first  and  a  member  of  Brandon's  company.  He 
was  tall  and  straight,  broad-shouldered  and  deep-chested, 
had  an  eye  like  an  eagle  and  a  voice  like  a  bull  of  Bashan, 
and  was  full  of  pluck  and  power  as  a  panther.  He  was 
rough  as  a  bear  in  manner,  but  withal  a  noble,  tender- 
hearted fellow,  and  a  splendid  soldier. 

The  enemy,  finding  the  way  now  clear,  were  coming  up 
the  street,  full  company  front,  with  flags  flying  and  bands 
playing,  while  the  great  shells  from  the  siege  guns  were 
bursting  over  their  heads  and  dashing  their  hurtling  frag- 
ments after  our  retreating  skirmishers. 

Buck  was  behind  the  corner  of  a  house  taking  sight  for 
a  last  shot.  Just  as  his  fingers  trembled  on  the  trigger,  a 
little  three-year-old,  fair-haired,  baby  girl  toddled  out  of  an 
alley,  accompanied  by  a  Newfoundland  dog,  and  gave  chase 
to  a  big  shell  that  was  rolling  lazily  along  the  pavement,  she 
clapping  her  little  hands  and  the  dog  snapping  and  barking 
furiously  at  the  shell. 

Buck's  hand  dropped  from  the  trigger.  He  dashed  it 
across  his  eyes  to  dispel  the  mist  and  make  sure  he  hadn't 
passed  over  the  river  and  wasn't  seeing  his  own  baby  girl 


FREDERICKSBURG  I3I 

in  a  vision.  No,  there  is  the  baby,  amid  the  hell  of  shot  and 
shell,  and  here  come  the  enemy.  A  moment  and  he  has 
grounded  his  gun,  dashed  out  into  the  storm,  swept  his  great 
right  arm  around  the  baby,  gained  cover  again,  and,  baby 
clasped  to  his  breast  and  musket  trailed  in  his  left  hand,  is 
trotting  after  the  boys  up  to  Marye's  Heights. 

And  there  behind  that  historic  stone  wall,  and  in  the  lines 
hard  by,  all  those  hours  and  days  of  terror  was  that  baby 
kept,  her  fierce  nurses  taking  turns  patting  her,  while  the 
storm  of  battle  raged  and  shrieked,  and  at  night  wrestling 
with  each  other  for  the  boon  and  benediction  of  her  quiet 
breathing  under  their  blankets.  Never  was  baby  so  cared 
for.  They  scoured  the  country  side  for  milk,  and  conjured 
up  their  best  skill  to  prepare  dainty  viands  for  her  little 
ladyship. 

When  the  struggle  was  over  and  the  enemy  had  with- 
drawn to  his  strongholds  across  the  river,  and  Barksdale 
was  ordered  to  reoccupy  the  town,  the  Twenty-first  Missis- 
sippi, having  held  the  post  of  danger  in  the  rear,  was  given 
the  place  of  honor  in  the  van  and  led  the  column.  There 
was  a  long  halt,  the  brigade  and  regimental  staff  hurrying 
to  and  fro.    The  regimental  colors  could  not  be  found. 

Denman  stood  about  the  middle  of  the  regiment,  baby  in 
arms.  Suddenly  he  sprang  to  the  front.  Swinging  her 
aloft  above  his  head,  her  little  garments  fluttering  like  the 
folds  of  a  banner,  he  shouted,  "Forward,  Twenty-first,  here 
are  your  colors!"  and  without  further  order,  off  started  the 
brigade  toward  the  town,  yelling  as  only  Barksdale's  men 
could  yell.  They  were  passing  through  a  street  fearfully 
shattered  by  the  enemy's  fire,  and  were  shouting  their  very 
souls  out — but  let  Buck  himself  describe  the  last  scene  in  the 
drama : 

"I  was  holding  the  baby  high,  Adjutant,  with  both  arms, 
when  above  all  the  racket  I  heard  a  woman's  scream.  The 
next  thing  I  knew  I  was  covered  with  calico  and  she  fainted 
on  my  breast.  I  caught  her  before  she  fell,  and  laying  her 
down  gently,  put  her  baby  on  her  bosom.  She  was  most  the 
prettiest  thing  I  ever  looked  at,  and  her  eyes  were  shut ;  and 
— and — I  hope  God'll  forgive  me,  but  I  kissed  her  just 
once." 


132  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Fredericksburg  was  the  simplest  and  easiest  won  battle 
of  the  war.  The  Federal  batteries  on  Falmouth  and  Staf- 
ford Heights  across  the  river  absolutely  dominated  the  town 
and  our  bank  of  the  river  and  the  flats  on  our  side;  but  our 
troops  were  back  on  the  hills,  which  we  had  fortified  some- 
what, and  which  we  could  have  held  against  the  world.  It 
is  believed  that  less  than  twenty  thousand  of  our  men,  about 
one- fourth  of  those  present  for  duty,  were  actually  engaged. 
Our  loss  was  comparatively  light,  the  Federal  loss  very 
heavy,  especially  in  the  attack  upon  Marye's  Heights  and 
the  famous  stone  wall,  in  front  of  which  dead  men  were 
lying  thicker  than  I  ever  saw  them  on  any  other  field.  I  at- 
tempted to  count  them,  but  found  it  impossible.  I  could 
have  walked  considerable  distances  in  front  of  this  wall, 
stepping  only  on  dead  men,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  I 
so  guided  my  horse  as  to  avoid  trampling  upon  them.  Burn- 
side  saw,  or  his  corps  commanders  showed  him,  his  mistake, 
and  he  refused  to  renew  the  attack,  as  we  were  hoping  that 
he  would.  There  is,  or  perhaps  I  should  say  there  was,  a 
feeling  that  we  should  have  ourselves  made  attack  upon 
him,  and  that  General  Jackson  favored  it.  Colonel  Taylor, 
General  Early,  and  other  authorities  scout  any  such  idea.  I 
do  not  feel  that  anything  would  be  gained  by  reopening  the 
discussion. 

Tennyson  is  in  error  when  he  says,  in  "Locksley  Hall," 
that  "Woman  is  the  lesser  man."  She  is  the  greater  man. 
A  good  woman  is  better  than  a  good  man,  a  bad  woman  is 
worse;  a  brave  woman  is  braver  than  any  man  ever  was. 
During  the  bombardment  I  was  sent  into  Fredericksburg 
with  a  message  for  General  Barksdale.  As  I  was  riding 
down  the  street  that  led  to  his  headquarters  it  appeared  to  be 
so  fearfully  swept  by  artillery  fire  that  I  started  to  ride 
across  it,  with  a  view  of  finding  some  safer  way  of  getting 
to  my  destination,  when,  happening  to  glance  beyond  that 
point,  I  saw  walking  quietly  and  unconcernedly  along  the 
same  street  I  was  on,  and  approaching  General  Barksdale's 
headquarters  from  the  opposite  direction,  a  lone  woman.  She 
apparently  found  the  projectiles  which  were  screaming  and 
exploding  in  the  air,  and  striking  and  crashing  through  the 


FREDERICKSBURG  1 33 

houses,  and  tearing  up  the  streets,  very  interesting- — step- 
ping a  little  aside  to  inspect  a  great,  gaping  hole  one  had 
just  gouged  out  in  the  sidewalk,  then  turning  her  head  tQ 
note  a  fearful  explosion  in  the  air.  I  felt  as  if  it  really 
would  not  do  to  avoid  a  fire  which  was  merely  interesting, 
and  not  at  all  appalling,  to  a  woman ;  so  I  stiffened  my  spinal 
column  as  well  as  I  could  and  rode  straight  down  the  street 
toward  headquarters  and  the  self-possessed  lady;  and  hav- 
ing reached  the  house  I  rode  around  back  of  it  to  put  my 
horse  where  he  would  at  least  be  safer  than  in  front.  As 
I  returned  on  foot  to  the  front  the  lady  had  gone  up  on  the 
porch  and  was  knocking  at  the  door.  One  of  the  staff  came 
to  hearken,  and  on  seeing  a  lady,  held  up  his  hands,  ex- 
claiming in  amazement :  "What  on  earth,  madam,  are  you 
doing  here?  Do  go  to  some  safe  place  if  you  can  find  one." 
She  smiled  and  said,  with  some  little  tartness :  "Young  gen- 
tleman, you  seem  to  be  a  little  excited.  Won't  you  please 
say  to  General  Barksdale  that  a  lady  at  the  door  wishes  to 
see  him."  The  young  man  assured  her  General  Barksdale 
could  not  possibly  see  her  just  now ;  but  she  persisted.  "Gen- 
eral Barksdale  is  a  Southern  gentleman,  sir,  and  will  not 
refuse  to  see  a  lady  who  has  called  upon  him."  Seeing  that 
he  could  not  otherwise  get  rid  of  her,  the  General  did  come 
to  the  door,  but  actually  wringing  his  hands  in  excitement 
and  annoyance.  "For  God's  sake,  madam,  go  and  seek 
some  place  of  safety.  I'll  send  a  member  of  my  staff  to  help 
you  find  one."  She  again  smiled  gently, — while  old  Barks- 
dale fumed  and  almost  swore, — and  then  she  said  quietly: 
"General  Barksdale,  my  cow  has  just  been  killed  in  my  stable 
by  a  shell.  She  is  very  fat  and  I  don't  want  the  Yankees  to 
get  her.  If  you  will  send  some  one  down  to  butcher  her, 
you  are  welcome  to  the  meat." 

Years  afterwards  I  delivered  a  Confederate  memorial 
address  at  Fredericksburg,  and  when  I  told  this  incident  no- 
ticed increasing  interest  and  something  very  like  amusement 
among  the  audience,  who  had  ceased  to  look  at  me,  but  all 
eyes  were  turned  in  one  direction,  and  just  as  I  finished  the 
story  and  my  eyes  followed  theirs — there  before  me  sat  this 
very  lady,  apparently  not  a  day  older,  and  the  entire  audience 
rose  and  gave  her  three  deafening  cheers. 


134  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

One  of  the  marked  features  of  the  battle  was  that  when 
we  lay  down  in  our  blankets  on  the  night  of  the  12th  we 
could  see  nothing,  but  could  plainly  hear  Burnside's  immense 
force  getting  into  position,  and  when  we  rose  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  13th  a  dense  fog  overhung  the  entire  flat  in  our 
front,  shutting  out  all  vision.  Once  or  twice  we  did  see 
men,  our  own  skirmishers,  moving  about,  as  the  blind  man 
in  the  Scriptures  saw  when  partially  healed — "Men  as  trees 
walking."  I  remember  that  when  a  Federal  cavalry  of- 
ficer lost  his  bearings  in  the  fog  and  came  too  near  our 
lines  we  heard  every  command  and  every  movement,  till 
suddenly  two  or  three  of  the  horsemen  loomed  up  in  the  mist 
in  dim  outline,  magnified  to  the  size  of  haystacks.  A  mo- 
ment more  and  they  ran  into  the  Texas  brigade  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill  in  our  front,  and  a  volley  emptied  many  a  saddle, 
their  gallant  leader's  among  them. 

A  little  later  a  light  breeze  sprang  up.  There  was  a 
swaying  movement  of  the  thick  vapor  and  then,  all  at  once, 
it  rolled  up  like  the  stage  curtain  of  a  theatre,  and  there, 
spread  out  in  the  wide  plain  beneath,  was  the  most  magnifi- 
cent martial  spectacle  that  can  be  imagined — a  splendidly- 
equipped  army  of  at  least  one  hundred  thousand  men,  in 
battle  array.  General  Burnside  testified  that  he  had  that  num- 
ber on  our  side  of  the  river.  For  a  moment  we  forgot  the 
terrible  business  ahead  of  us  in  the  majesty  and  glory  of  the 
sight. 

We  were  stationed  on  what  was  afterwards  known  as 
"Lee's  Hill,"  an  elevation  centrally  located  between  the  right 
and  left  flanks  of  our  line,  and  jutting  out  at  quite  a  com- 
manding height  into  and  above  the  plain.  For  these  reasons 
General  Lee  made  it,  for  the  most  part,  his  field  headquarters 
during  the  fight.  Portions  of  the  city  and  of  Marye's 
Heights  were  not  visible,  at  least  not  thoroughly  so ;  but 
every  other  part  of  the  field  was,  clear  away  down,  or  nearly 
down,  to  Hamilton's  Crossing.  From  it  we  witnessed  the 
break  in  our  lines  on  the  right,  where  the  Federals  came  in 
over  a  piece  of  marshy  ground,  supposed  to  be  impassable, 
between  Lane's'1  North  Carolina  and  Archer's  Tennessee 
brigade.     The  entire  attack,  from  its  inception  to  its  unex> 


FREDERICKSBURG  1 35 

pected  success,  was  as  clearly  defined  as  a  movement  on  a 
chessboard,  and  I  confess  that  tears  started  to  and  even 
from  my  eyes;  but  a  moment  later  a  great  outburst  of  fire 
a  little  back  of  the  line  of  battle  indicated  that  the  intruders 
had  been  gallantly  met  by  our  second  line,  or  our  reserves, 
and  in  a  few  moments  out  they  rushed,  the  victors  yelling 
at  their  heels.  My  uncle,  William  Henry  Stiles,  colonel  of 
the  Sixtieth  Georgia,  and  who,  in  the  absence  of  the  gen- 
eral, was  in  command  of  Lawton's  brigade  in  the  battle,  told 
me  an  amusing  story  of  this  particular  fight. 

When  his  brigade,  with  others,  was  ordered  to  stem  this 
irruption,  drive  out  the  intruders  and  reestablish — or  rather, 
for  the  first  time  properly  extend  and  connect — our  lines, 
his  men  were  double-quicking  to  the  point  of  peril  and  he 
running  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  his  brigade  line  to  see 
that  all  parts  were  kept  properly  "dressed  up,"  when  he  ob- 
served one  of  the  conscripts  who  had  lately  been  sent  to  his 
regiment — a  large,  fine-looking  fellow — drop  out  and 
crouch  behind  a  tree.  My  uncle,  a  tall,  wiry,  muscular  man, 
was  accustomed  to  carry  a  long,  heavy  sword,  and  having  it 
at  the  time  in  his  hand,  as  he  passed  he  struck  the  fellow  a 
sound  whack  across  his  shoulders  with  the  flat  of  the  wea- 
pon, simultaneously  saying,  "Up  there,  you  coward !"  To 
his  astonishment  the  man  dropped  his  musket,  clasped  his 
hands  and  keeled  over  backwards,  devoutly  ejaculating, 
''Lord,  receive  my  spirit !" 

Uncle  William  said  the  entire  denouement  was  so  unex- 
pected and  grotesque  and  his  haste  so  imperative,  that  he 
scarcely  knew  how  he  managed  to  do  it,  but  he  did  turn  and 
deliver  a  violent  kick  upon  the  fellow's  ribs,  at  the  same  time 
shouting,  "Get  up,  sir!  the  Lord  wouldn't  receive  the  spirit 
of  such  an  infernal  coward;"  whereupon,  to  his  further 
amazement,  the  man  sprang  up  in  the  most  joyful  fashion, 
fairly  shouting,  "Ain't  I  killed?  The  Lord  be  praised!" 
and  grabbing  his  musket  he  sailed  in  like  a  hero,  as  he  ever 
afterwards  was.  The  narrator  added  that  he  firmly  be- 
lieved that,  but  for  the  kick,  his  conscript  would  have  com- 
pleted the  thing  and  died  in  good  order. 

On  our  part  of  the  line  I  witnessed  a  scene  not  quite  so 
humorous  as  this,  but  strongly  characteristic.     I  saw  a  tall 


I36  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Texan  bring  up  the  hill,  as  prisoners,  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  low,  stolid  Germans, — Bavarians  I  think  they  were, 
— no  one  of  whom  could  speak  a  word  of  English.  He 
must  have  been  a  foot  taller  than  any  of  them,  as  he  stood 
leaning  on  his  long  rifle  and  looking  down  upon  them  with 
a  very  peculiar  expression.  I  asked  him  where  he  got  them 
and  he  replied  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way,  "Well,  me 
and  my  comrade  surrounded  'em;  but  he  got  killed,  poor 
fellow !"  He  really  looked  as  if  he  could  have  surrounded 
the  entire  lot  alone. 

Not  often  have  I  come  in  contact  with  relations  more 
beautiful  than  existed  in  some  cases  between  young  South- 
ern masters  in  the  service  and  their  slave  attendants.  These 
latter  belonged  for  the  most  part  to  one  of  two  classes :  either 
they  were  mature  and  faithful  men,  to  whose  care  the  lad's 
parents  had  committed  him,  or  else  they  were  the  special 
chums  and  playmates  of  their  young  master's  boyhood  days, 
who  had  perhaps  already  attended  and  waited  upon  him  in 
college. 

My  first  cousin,  eldest  son  of  the  uncle  above  mentioned, 
and  who  was  a  captain  in  his  regiment,  was  seriously  wound- 
ed late  in  the  evening  of  the  battle,  but  the  casualty  was  not 
generally  known,  probably  because  the  surgeons  finding  him 
on  the  field,  after  a  hurried  examination,  pronounced  his 
wound  necessarily  and  speedily  mortal,  and  added:  "We 
are  sorry  to  leave  you,  Captain,  but  we  and  the  litter  bear- 
ers have  all  we  can  attend  to."  To  which  he  replied :  "Cer- 
tainly, gentlemen,  go  on  and  attend  to  the  men ;  but  you  are 
mistaken  about  me.     I  haven't  the  least  idea  of  dying." 

They  left  him ;  the  litter  bearers  of  course  did  not  report 
his  case,  and  probably  neither  his  father  nor  any  member 
of  his  company  was  aware  of  his  having  been  wounded. 
But  there  was  one  faithful  soul  to  whom  he  was  more 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  regiment.  If  he  continued  "missing" 
the  world  was  empty  to  him,  and  so,  in  cold  and  darkness 
and  sadness,  he  searched  every  foot  of  ground  the  regi- 
ment had  fought  over,  till  at  last  he  found  him.  Then  he 
wandered  about  until  he  got  from  the  bodies  of  dead  men 
blankets  enough  to  make  a  soft,  warm  bed,  and  carefully 


FREDERICKSBURG  1 37 

lifted  him  on  to  it,  and  covered  him  snugly.  He  then  man- 
aged to  start  a  fire  and  get  water  for  him,  and  finally,  most 
important  of  all,  got  from  the  body  of  a  dead  Federal  of- 
ficer a  small  flask  of  brandy  and  stimulated  him  carefully. 

About  daylight  the  doctors  came  by  again  and,  surprised 
to  find  him  alive,  made  a  more  careful  examination  and 
found  that  the  ball  had  passed  entirely  through  his  body 
from  right  to  left,  just  between  the  upper  and  lower  vital 
regions ;  but  they  added  that  he  would  have  died  of  cold  and 
exposure  had  it  not  been  for  the  faithful  love  that  refused 
to  be  satisfied  until  it  had  found  and  provided  for  him. 
That  was  the  night  of  the  13th  of  December.  On  the  25th, 
I  think  it  was,  he  walked  up  to  the  third  story  of  a  house  in 
Richmond  to  see  my  mother,  who  had  meantime  gotten 
through  from  the  North. 

The  battle  closed,  as  it  began,  with  a  marked,  and  this 
time  a  beautiful,  natural  phenomenon.  It  was  very  cold 
and  very  clear,  and  the  aurora  borealis  of  the  night  of  De- 
cember 13th,  1862,  surpassed  in  splendor  any  like  exhibi- 
tion I  ever  saw.  Of  course  we  enthusiastic  young  fellows 
felt  that  the  heavens  were  hanging  out  banners  and  stream- 
ers and  setting  off  fireworks  in  honor  of  our  victory. 

Our  friends,  the  enemy,  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  leave  our 
neighborhood,  though  they  did  not  seem  to  long  for  another 
close  grapple,  and  as  we  appeared  equally  indifferent  to  any 
closer  acquaintance  with  them,  General  Burnside  and  his 
army,  on  the  night  of  December  15th,  apparently  insulted, 
retired  to  their  own  side  of  the  river  and  began  to  get  ready 
for  Christmas. 


CHAPTER  XI 

RELIGIOUS   LIFE  OF  LEE^S  ARMY 

Revival  in  Barksdale's  Brigade  at  Fredericksburg — A  Model  Chaplain — 
Personal  Conferences  with  Comrades — A  Prayer  Between  the  Lines 
— A  Percussion  Shell  at  Gettysburg. 

No  account  of  my  experience  as  a  Confederate  soldier 
would  be  complete  if  it  failed  to  refer  to  the  religious  life 
of  the  army.  This  was  an  element  of  importance  in  all  our 
armies,  from  the  outset  to  the  end,  and  was  recognized  and 
fostered  as  such  by  our  leading  generals,  many  of  whom  at- 
tended the  religious  services  held  among  the  men  of  their 
commands,  some  of  them  taking  loving  direction  of  these 
services. 

I  remember  on  one  occasion,  when  my  father  was  preach- 
ing to  Tom  Cobb's  brigade,  on  the  lines  about  Richmond  in 
'62,  that  the  service  was  interrupted  by  sharp  firing  in 
front  and  the  command  marched  off  into  the  woods.  It 
proved  a  false  alarm,  however ;  the  troops  soon  returned  and 
the  service  was  resumed.  But  the  men  were  preoccupied, 
nervous,  and  widely  scattered,  and  everything  dragged,  until 
the  general,  rising,  begged  my  father  to  wait  a  moment, 
and  called  out :  "Men,  get  up  close  together  here  in  front, 
till  your  shoulders  meet.  You  can't  make  a  fire  if  the  sticks 
don't  touch."  They  "closed  up"  and  the  meeting  proceeded 
with  great  power. 

Volumes  have  been  written  on  this  general  theme  by 
chaplains  and  others,  and  I  have  already  made  brief  inci- 
dental reference  to  it ;  but  more  than  this  is  required.  Not 
that  I  propose  to  condense  into  this  chapter  every  fact  or  in- 
cident within  my  knowledge  illustrative  of  this  phase  of  life 
in  the  Confederate  armies.  On  the  contrary,  I  shall,  in  the 
main,  throughout  this  book,  allow  the  religious  element  to 


RELIGIOUS   LIFE  OF  LEE  S  ARMY  1 39 

mingle  with  others  that  gave  character  to  our  soldier  life, 
and  to  crop  out  here  and  there,  as  it  actually  did  in  our 
every-day  experiences;  for  with  a  Confederate  soldier,  es- 
pecially, religion  was  not  at  all  a  mere  Sunday  matter,  to 
be  put  on  and  off  with  his  Sunday  clothes,  even  if  he  had 
any  such. 

But  as  the  revival  at  Fredericksburg  in  the  winter  of 
'62- '63  concerned  especially  the  infantry  brigade  with  which 
I  was  longest  and  most  closely  associated,  I  may  be  par- 
doned for  giving  a  brief  sketch  of  what  was  probably  the 
most  marked  religious  movement  in  our  war  and,  as  I  be- 
lieve, rarely  paralleled  anywhere  or  at  any  time. 

The  religious  interest  among  Barksdale's  men  began  about 
the  time  of,  or  soon  after,  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg, 
which  was  about  the  middle  of  December,  '62,  and  continued 
with  unabated  fervor  up  to  and  through  the  battle  of  Chan- 
cellorsville  and  even  to  Gettysburg.  In  addition  to  the 
labors  of  the  regimental  chaplains,  the  ablest  and  most  dis- 
tinguished ministers  in  Virginia,  of  all  denominations,  de- 
lighted to  come  up  and  speak  to  the  men.  My  father,  who 
was  nearly  seventy  years  old,  came  over  from  Jackson's 
corps  late  in  February  and  remained  for  many  weeks.  The 
fraternal  spirit  of  the  Christian  workers  is  thus  portrayed 
in  a  letter  by  Rev.  William  J.  Hoge,  D.  D.,  of  the  Presbyte- 
rian Church,  written  from  Fredericksburg  in  the  spring  of 
1863.     Says  Dr.  Hoge: 

A  rich  blessing  had  been  poured  upon  the  zealous  labors  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Owen,  Methodist  chaplain  in  Barksdale's  Brigade.  The  Rev.  Dr. 
Burrows,  of  the  Baptist  church,  Richmond,  had  just  arrived,  expecting 
to  labor  with  him  for  some  days.  As  I  was  to  stay  but  one  night,  Dr. 
Burrows  courteously  insisted  on  my  preaching.  So  we  had  a  Presby- 
terian sermon,  introduced  by  Baptist  services,  under  the  direction  of  a 
Methodist  chaplain,  in  an  Episcopal  church  !  Was  not  that  a  beautiful 
solution  of  the  vexed  problem  of  Christian  union? 

The  Baptist  church  had  been  so  injured  during  the  bom- 
bardment that  it  could  not  be  used.  The  meetings  were 
first  held  in  the  Presbyterian  church  and  then  in  the  Method- 
ist, and  finally  were  transferred  to  the  Episcopal  church,  St. 


14°  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

George's,  which  was  the  largest  in  the  city,  and  accommo- 
dated, I  should  say,  packed  as  it  invariably  was,  from  a 
thousand  to  twelve  hundred  men.  I  have  never  seen  such 
eagerness  to  hear  the  Word  of  God,  nor  greater  simplicity, 
directness  and  earnestness  in  religious  services.  Long  be- 
fore the  hour  appointed  the  men  would  begin  to  gather,  in- 
tent on  getting  into  the  church  and  securing  a  seat.  There- 
after every  moment  was  occupied  with  some  act  of  worship 
of  uncommon  intensity  and  power.  The  singing,  in  which 
everyone  joined,  was  hearty  and  impressive;  the  prayers, 
offered  generally  by  the  men  themselves,  were  soul-moving 
"cries  unto  God ;"  the  preacher  was  sometimes  a  distinguish- 
ed divine  from  Richmond,  sometimes  one  of  the  army  chap- 
lains, sometimes  a  private  soldier  from  the  ranks,  but  who- 
ever he  might  be,  he  preached  the  gospel  and  the  gospel  only. 
The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  written  by  my 
father  just  after  he  reached  Fredericksburg : 

After  my  arrival  we  held  three  meetings  a  day — a  morning  and  after- 
noon prayer-meeting  and  a  preaching  service  at  night.  We  could  scarcely 
ask  of  delightful  religious  interest  more  than  we  received.  Our  sanc- 
tuary has  been  crowded,  lower  floor  and  gallery.  Loud,  animated  sing- 
ing always  hailed  our  approach  to  the  house  of  God;  and  a  closely 
packed  audience  of  men,  amongst  whom  you  might  have  searched  in 
vain  for  one  white  hair,  were  leaning  upon  the  voice  of  the  preacher  as 
if  God  himself  had  called  them  together  to  hear  of  life  and  death  eter- 
nal. At  every  call  for  the  anxious,  the  entire  altar,  the  front  six  seats 
of  the  five  blocks  of  pews  surrounding  the  pulpit,  and  all  the  spaces 
thereabouts  ever  so  closely  packed,  could  scarcely  accommodate  the 
supplicants. 

To  this  graphic  picture  may  I  add  a  few  touches.  There 
was  a  soldier  in  a  red  blanket  overcoat  who  had  a  voice  like 
the  sound  of  many  waters,  and  who  almost  invariably  sat 
or  stood  on  the  pulpit  steps  and  led  the  singing.  I  remem- 
ber, too,  the  many  marks  of  cannon  balls  upon  and  in  and 
through  the  building,  and  that  it  added  to  the  thrill  of  the 
services  to  realize  that  we  were  gathered  under  the  frowning 
batteries  upon  Stafford  Heights.  And  while  I  greatly  en- 
joyed the  many  powerful  sermons  we  heard  from  distin- 


RELIGIOUS   LIFE   OF   LEE  S   ARMY  I4I 

guished  ministers,  yet  I  was  still  more  impressed  by  the 
simple  song  and  prayer  and  experience  meetings  of  the  men, 
which  were  generally  held  for  at  least  an  hour  before  the 
regular  service  began. 

Many  of  the  "talks"  delivered  by  the  private  soldiers  in 
these  preparatory  services  were  thrilling  beyond  expression. 
Let  me  attempt  to  reproduce  two  or  three  of  these,  promis- 
ing that  if  I  cannot  be  sure  of  the  precise  words  employed 
by  the  speakers,  I  at  least  will  not  fail  to  reproduce  the  sub- 
stance and  the  spirit  of  their  addresses  : 

I  remember  that  one  of  these  private  soldiers,  in  illustrat- 
ing and  enforcing  the  folly  of  living  in  this  world  as  if  we 
were  to  live  in  it  forever,  asked  his  comrades  what  they 
would  think  of  the  good  sense  or  even  the  sanity  of  one  of 
their  number  who  should  to-morrow  morning  send  to  Rich- 
mond for  an  elegant  wrapper,  velvet  smoking  cap  and  slip- 
pers, and  when  they  came,  throwing  away  his  blanket  and 
stout  shoes  and  clothes,  should  insist  upon  arraying  himself 
in  "these  butterfly  things"  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  the 
next  moment  the  long  roll  might  turn  him  out  into  the  deep 
snow  or  the  guns  of  the  enemy  batter  down  his  cantonment 
over  his  head. 

Another,  speaking  of  the  trivial  things  to  which  a  man 
gives  his  heart  and  for  which  he  may  lose  his  soul,  specu- 
lated with  the  finest  fancy  as  to  what  it  was,  and  how  very 
a  trifle  it  may  have  been,  that  turned  the  heart  and  the  gaze 
of  Lot's  wife  back  toward  Sodom  and  turned  her  breathing 
body  into  a  dead  pillar  of  salt. 

And  still  another — a  'great,  broad-shouldered,  double- 
jointed  son  of  Anak,  with  a  head  like  the  Farnese  Jove  and  a 
face  and  frame  indicative  of  tremendous  power,  alike  of 
character  and  of  muscle — delivered  himself  of  his  "expe- 
rience" in  one  of  the  most  graphic  and  moving  talks  I  ever 
listened  to.     He  said  in  substance: 

"Brethren,  I  want  you  to  know  what  a  merciful,  forgiv- 
ing being  the  Lord  is,  and  to  do  that  I've  got  to  tell  you 
what  a  mean-spirited  liar  I  am.     You  remember  that  tight 

place  the  brigade  got  into,  down  yonder  at ,  and  you 

know  the  life  I  lived  up  to  that  day.    Well,  as  soon  as  ever 


I42  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  Minies  began  a-singing  and  the  shell  a-bursting  around 
me,  I  up  and  told  the  Lord  that  I  was  sorry  and  ashamed 
of  myself,  and  if  He'd  cover  my  head  this  time  we'd  settle 
the  thing  as  soon  as  I  got  out.  Then  I  got  to  fighting  and 
forgot  all  about  it,  and  never  thought  of  my  promise  no 
more  at  all  till  we  got  into  that  other  place,  up  yonder  at 

;  you  remember  it,  tighter  than  the  first  one.    Then, 

when  the  bullets  begun  a  hissing  like  rain  and  the  shell  was 
fairly  tearing  the  woods  to  pieces,  my  broken  promise  come 
back  to  me.  Brethren,  my  coward  heart  stopped  beating 
and  I  pretty  night  fainted.  I  tried  to  pray  and  at  first  I 
couldn't;  but  I  just  said,  'Look  here,  Lord,  if  You  will  look, 
I  feel  I  have  lied  to  you  and  that  you  won't  believe  me  again, 
and  may  be  you  oughtn't  to ;  but  I  don't  want  to  go  to  hell, 
and  I'm  serious  and  honest  this  time,  and  if  You  do  hear 
me  now,  we'll  meet  just  as  soon  as  I  get  out  safe,  and  we 
certainly  will  settle  things.' 

"Well,  brethren,  He  did  all  I  asked  of  Him,  the  Lord  did ; 
and  what  did  I  do?  Brethren,  I'm  ashamed  to  say  it,  but  I 
lied  again,  and  never  thought  one  thing  about  it  at  all  till 
one  day  we  was  shoved  into  the  very  worst  place  any  of  us 
ever  was  in.  Hell  gaped  for  me,  and  here  come  the  two 
lies  I  had  told  and  sat  right  down  upon  my  heart  and  my 
tongue.  Of  course  I  couldn't  pray,  but  at  last  I  managed  to 
say,  Lord !  Lord !  I  deserve  it  all  if  I  do  go  there,  right 
now,  and  I  can't  pray  and  I  won't  lie  any  more.     You  can 

do  as  You  please,  Lord;  but  if  You  do .     But,  no,  I 

won't  lie  any  more,  and  I  won't  promise,  for  fear  I  should 
lie.  It's  all  in  your  hands,  Lord — hell  or  mercy.  I've  got  no 
time  to  talk  any  more  about  it.  I've  got  to  go  to  killing 
Yankees.  But,  oh  Lord !  oh  Lord  I — no,  I  daresn't,  I 
daresn't;  for  I  won't  lie  any  more;  I  won't  go  down  there 
with  a  fresh  lie  on  my  lips ;  but,  oh  Lord !  oh  Lord !' 

"And  so  it  was,  brethren,  all  through  that  dreadful  day ; 
fighting,  fighting,  and  not  daring  to  pray. 

"But,  brethren,  He  did  it,  He  did  it ;  and  the  moment  the 
thing  was  over  I  wouldn't  give  myself  time  to  lie  again,  so  I 
just  took  out  and  ran  as  hard  as  ever  I  could  into  the  deep, 
dark  woods,  where  God  and  me  was  alone  together,  and  I 


RELIGIOUS   LIFE  OF   LEE  S   ARMY  I43 

threw  my  musket  down  on  the  ground  and  I  went  right 
down  myself,  too,  on  my  knees,  and  cried  out,  'Thank  you, 
Lord ;  thank  you,  Lord !  but  I'm  not  going  to  get  up  off  my 
knees  until  everything's  settled  between  us;'  and  neither 
I  didn't,  brethren.  The  Lord  never  held  it  over  me  at  all, 
and  we  settled  it  right  there." 

It  is  said  that  more  than  five  hundred  men  professed  con- 
version in  these  Fredericksburg  meetings,  and  this  statement 
is  based  upon  careful  figures  made  by  the  regimental  chap- 
lains, and  particularly  by  Rev.  William  Owen,  who  really 
began  these  meetings,  and  was  practically  in  charge  of  them. 
Some  of  the  chaplains  were  very  uncommon  men.  My 
father,  who  was  in  the  ministry  more  than  fifty  years  and 
had  a  very  wide  experience  with  men,  expressed  the  highest 
estimate  of  them. 

Easily  the  most  marked  man  among  them,  however,  was 
the  Rev.  William  Benton  Owen,  chaplain  of  the  Seventeenth 
Mississippi  Regiment.  My  recollection  is  that  he  had  been 
a  private  soldier  and  was  commissioned  chaplain,  because 
he  was  already  doing  the  work  of  one — yes,  of  half  a  dozen 
— without  the  commission.  Of  all  the  men  I  ever  knew,  I 
think  he  was  the  most  consecrated,  the  most  unselfish,  and 
the  most  energetic,  and  that  he  accomplished  more  that  was 
really  worthy  of  grateful  recognition  and  commendation 
than  any  other  man  I  ever  knew,  of  his  ability.  By  this  I 
do  not  mean  to  imply  that  his  ability  was  small,  but  simply 
that  I  do  not  include  in  this  statement  a  few  men  I  have 
known,  of  extraordinary  abilities  and  opportunities. 

"Brother  William,"  as  we  used  to  call  him,  was  also  a 
man  of  the  sweetest,  loveliest  spirit,  but  of  the  most  unflinch- 
ing courage  as  well.  After  he  became  chaplain  he  never  felt 
it  right  or  fitting  that  he  should  attempt  to  kill  or  wound  a 
man,  so  he  never  fired  another  shot,  yet  he  was  seldom  back 
of  the  actual  line  of  battle.  It  may  give  some  faint  idea  of 
his  exalted  Christian  heroism  to  say  that  his  regular  habit 
was  to  take  charge  of  the  litter-bearers  in  battle,  and  first  to 
see  to  the  removal  of  the  wounded,  Federal  as  well  as  Con- 
federate, when  the  former  fell  into  our  hands ;  and  then  to 
attend  to  the  burial  of  the  dead  of  both  sides,  when  we  held 


144  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  field  and  the  enemy  did  not  ask  leave  to  bury  their  own 
dead. 

It  will  be  remembered  by  Federal  soldiers  that  the  Ameri- 
can Tract  or  Bible  Society  published  Testaments  with  the 
United  States  flag  on  the  fly  leaf,  and,  on  the  folds  of  the 
banner,  the  printed  words,  "If  I  should  fall,  send  this  to 

,"  space  being  left  for  his  home  address,  which  each 

soldier  was  supposed  to  write  in  the  appropriate  place.  Dear 
Brother  William  could  not  always  burden  himself  with  all 
these  Testaments  taken  from  the  dead  soldiers'  pockets ;  but 
because  that  was  not  possible,  he  used  to  carry  a  little  blank 
book  in  which  he  would  copy  the  home  addresses  of  the 
dead  soldiers  and  would  afterwards  write  to  their  friends, 
telling  them  where  they  were  buried,  and,  if  possible,  how 
their  bodies  might  be  identified. 

After  one  of  the  bloody  repulses  of  the  enemy  at  Spottsyl- 
vania  in  1864,  Brother  William  was,  as  usual,  out  in  front  of 
our  works,  utterly  unconscious  of  his  own  heroism  or  his 
own  peril.  He  had  removed  the  wounded  of  both  sides  and 
taken  note  of  our  dead,  and  was  making  his  memoranda  of 
the  home  addresses  of  the  Federal  dead,  when  a  Minie 
ball  struck  his  left  elbow,  shattering  it  dreadfully.  He  was 
at  once  carried  to  the  field  hospital,  and  some  of  Barks- 
dale's  (now  Humphreys')  men  sent  word  down  the  line  to 
me.  As  soon  as  our  guns  were  disengaged  I  galloped  to 
the  hospital  to  see  him;  but  when  I  arrived  he  was  under 
the  knife,  his  elbow  being  in  process  of  resection,  and,  of 
course,  was  unconscious.  My  recollection  is  that  I  saw  him 
but  for  a  moment  only.  Much  as  I  would  have  given  for 
even  so  little  as  one  word  from  him,  I  could  not  possibly 
wait,  but  was  obliged  to  return  to  my  post. 

I  never  saw  him  again.  As  usual,  after  one  of  these  death 
grapples  of  '64,  Grant  slipped  off  to  his  left  and  we  to  our 
right,  this  time  too  far  for  me  to  get  back.  In  a  few  days 
we  heard  that  Mr.  Owen  was  in  Richmond  and  then  that  he 
had  been  sent  home,  and  our  hopes  grew  bright  that  he 
would  ultimately  recover.  But  no;  he  was  never  really  a 
strong  man ;  indeed  he  was  one  of  the  few  small  and  slight 
men  I  remember  in  the  entire  brigade,  and,  besides,  he  was 


RELIGIOUS  LIFE  OF  LEE's  ARMY  1 45 

worn  and  wasted  with  his  ceaseless  labors.  He  never  really 
rallied,  but  in  a  short  time  sank  and  passed  away.  Few 
servants  of  God  and  man  as  noble  and  consecrated,  as  useful 
and  beloved,  as  William  Owen  have  lived  in  this  world  or 
left  it  for  Heaven. 

I  have  referred  incidentally  to  two  special  friends  of  mine 
in  the  company, — whom  we  will  now  identify  as  Allan  and 
Billy, — and  in  a  later  chapter  will  refer  again  to  the  sin- 
cerity and  candor  of  the  intercourse,  especially  the  religious 
intercourse,  of  soldiers  with  each  other.  If  now  I  can,  by 
a  touch  here  and  there,  reveal  something  of  what  passed 
between  me  and  each  of  these  noble  boys  as  they  were  led 
into  the  higher  life,  I  will  have  done  more  than  I  could  do 
in  any  other  way  to  put  before  you  the  every-day  religious 
life  of  the  army. 

Both  my  friends  were  younger  than  I,  both  were  high, 
moral  men,  but  neither  was  a  christian;  Allan  and  I  were 
law  students  when  the  war  interrupted  our  studies — he  at 
the  University  of  Virginia,  I  at  Columbia  College,  New 
York.  It  was  he  who,  having  been  previously  a  pronounced 
Union  man,  left  the  University  before  breakfast  the  morn- 
ing President  Lincoln's  call  for  troops  was  published  and 
joined  a  military  company  in  Richmond  before  going  to  his 
father's  house.  Billy  was  the  guide  who  met  us  at  the  train 
the  day  we  joined  the  battery,  and  conducted  us  to  the 
Howitzer  camp.  We  were  all  in  the  same  detachment,  that 
is,  attached  to  the  same  gun,  so  I  readily  could  and  actually 
did  pass  much  of  my  waking  life  first  with  one  and  then 
with  the  other,  and  I  generally  laid  down  by  one  or  the  other 
at  night.  Our  religious  conferences  were  seldom  all  three 
together,  for  the  other  two  differed  in  nature  and  did  not 
have  the  same  temptations  or  difficulties  to  overcome.  I 
began  earnest  effort  with  both  of  them  as  far  back  as  Lees- 
burg,  and  when  I  was  promoted  and  left  the  battery,  just 
after  Chancellorsville,  both  had  become  Christians. 

It  may  seem  almost  grotesque  in  such  a  connection  to 
remark  that  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  for  a  soldier 
to  do  is  to  keep  his  person  and  his  scant  clothing  reasonably 
clean,  and  that  one  of  the  large  memories  of  my  soldier  life 


I46  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

is  a  record  of  "divers  washings."  Yet  I  cannot  recall  ever 
having  bathed  or  washed,  while  with  the  company,  with 
any  one  other  than  my  two  dear  friends,  and  it  is  singular 
how  vividly  I  do  recall  standing  waist  deep  in  a  pool  or 
stream  of  water  with  Billy  or  with  Allan,  each  of  us  scrub- 
bing away  at  his  only  shirt,  or  at  one  of  his  two  shirts,  as 
the  case  might  be,  meanwhile  earnestly  discussing  some  as- 
pect of  the  one  great  matter. 

Both  my  dear  friends  were  exceptionally  strong  men  in- 
tellectually, but  Billy  had  the  simpler  nature,  with  less  ten- 
dency to  self-analysis  and  introspection,  stronger  physical 
life  and  higher  animal  spirits ;  so  that  with  him  it  was  a  clear 
and  a  clearly-confessed  case  of  light-hearted  content  and 
happiness  as  he  was,  and  consequent  light-hearted  indiffer- 
ence to  any  great  change.  But  he  was  growing  more 
thoughtful,  more  tender,  more  perfect  in  his  moral  life. 

He  was  wounded  seriously  at  Malvern  Hill  and  threatened 
with  the  loss  of  an  eye,  and  was  at  home  in  the  country  with 
his  mother  and  sisters  for  some  months.  Meanwhile  his 
father  died,  and  he  began  to  realize  that  if  he  lived  through 
the  war  he  would  have  a  great  burden  to  carry  with  his 
"seven  women,"  as  he  afterwards  called  them  when  nobly 
bearing  them  on  his  great  shoulders.  "Seven  women  tak- 
ing hold  of  the  skirt  of  one  man,  and  that  the  skirt  of  a 
round-about  jacket,"  as  Billy  used  to  say.  He  returned  to  us 
just  before  Chancellorsville  to  find  the  great  revival  at 
Fredericksburg  in  progress  and  a  general  condition  of 
thoughtfulness  throughout  the  army,  including  our  bat- 
tery. He  attended  some  of  these  wonderful  services  and 
we  were  together  as  much  as  possible.  I  felt  the  greatest 
yearning  and  the  strongest  hope  for  him. 

Suddenly  Chancellorsville  burst  upon  us,  and  as  Hooker's 
really  great  plan  was  disclosed  we  all  felt  that  the  next  few 
days  were  indeed  big  with  fate.  Hooker  had  crossed  an 
immense  force  at  the  upper  fords  of  the  Rappahannock  and 
Sedgwick  was  crossing  in  front  of  Fredericksburg.  All 
of  us  were  deeply  stirred ;  and  when  night  fell  and  our  lines 
began  to  grow  still,  I  proposed  to  Billy  that  we  should 
walk  out  to  the  point  of  the  hill  overlooking  the  wide  river 


RELIGIOUS  LIFE  OF  LEE  S  ARMY  I47 

^bottom  and  hear,  if  we  could  not  see,  the  Federal  army  get- 
ting into  position.  We  did  so,  and  no  previous  hour  of  our 
lives  had  ever  proved  as  impressive  as  that  which  followed. 
We  passed  beyond  our  pickets  and  continued  to  walk  until 
we  got  where  the  murmur  of  our  lines  could  no  longer  be 
heard,  while  every  movement  of  Sedgewick's  great  host  was 
plainly  audible.  We  heard  the  commands  of  the  officers, 
the  tramp  of  the  men,  the  rumble  of  the  artillery  carriages, 
the  shouts  and  curses  of  the  drivers.  We  thought  of  the 
great  meetings  in  Fredericksburg  violently  brought  to  a 
close,  and  of  the  great  audience  of  worshipers  to-night 
manning  the  lines  with  us.  We  thought  of  the  morrow  and 
then  of  our  dear  ones  praying  for  us,  while  I  found  my 
arms  gradually  embracing  my  friend  and  drawing  him 
closer  to  my  bosom;  and  then,  taking  off  our  hats,  we 
prayed, — oh,  so  quietly,  yet  so  earnestly! — committing  us 
and  ours  to  God's  merciful  keeping,  for  the  night,  for  the 
morrow,  forever.  I  do  not  remember  that  we  spoke  after 
the  prayer  ceased,  but  I  felt  a  new  answering  pressure  in 
Billy's  arms  which  now  closely  enfolded  me,  and  the  sense 
of  a  new  brotherhood  between  us.  We  walked  silently  back 
to  the  guns,  but  with  a  new  strength,  a  deep  trust  and  peace 
in  our  souls,  and  we  laid  down  with  our  arms  about  each 
other  and  slept  as  quietly  as  little  children — as  indeed  we 
were,  God's  dear  soldier  children,  who  had  felt  His  gentle 
assurance  that  all  was  and  would  be  well. 

The  facts  relating  to  Allan's  conversion  and  death  are 
so  remarkable  that  I  would  scarcely  dare  record  them  were  it 
not  that  I  have  before  me  a  written  memorandum  of  them 
prepared  while  I  was  a  prisoner  at  Johnson's  Lsland  in  the 
spring  of  1865.  Allan  was,  as  before  intimated,  rather 
prone  to  introspection,  but  his  mental  processes  were  so  defi- 
nite and  his  verbal  expression  of  them  so  clear  that  one  ex- 
perienced no  difficulty  in  understanding  him  and  always  felt 
assured  that  he  thoroughly  understood  himself. 

A  few  days  before  Billy's  return,  Allan  and  I  were  wash- 
ing our  clothes,  and  I,  as  usual,  talking,  when  he  abruptly 
and  almost  impatiently  interrupted  me,  saying  substantially 
that,  while  I  evidently  thought  I  was  speaking  sensibly  and 


I48  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

appositely,  yet  what  I  was  saying  had  in  fact  no  sort  of 
application  to  his  case. 

"No  doubt,"  said  he,  "it  is  enough  if  a  man  believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ;  but  this  direction  is  given  to  one  who 
has,  in  all  sincerity  and  earnestness,  asked,  'What  must  I 
do  to  be  saved  ?'  Now  I  feel  that  I  have  never  sincerely  and 
seriously  asked  that  question,  and  I  am  not  asking  it  now. 
The  fact  is,  the  whole  current  of  my  being  sets  toward  the 
fulfilment  of  my  earthly  purpose;  though  just  now  the  im- 
mediate pursuit  of  it  is  kept  in  abeyance  by  the  war.  It  is  not 
worth  while  to  attempt  to  deceive  myself  or  you ;  what  I 
really  desire  and  am  absorbed  in,  my  dear  Bob,  is  not  eter- 
nal life,  but  the  life  which  now  is.  Now  then,  what  should, 
what  can  a  man  do,  who  is  in  my  condition  ?  Tell  me  what 
you  really  think ;  and  speak  quietly  and  practically,  so  there 
will  be  no  mistaking  your  meaning." 

I  knew  he  was  honest  and  hoped  he  was  more  earnest  than 
he  realized  at  the  moment,  so  I  begged  for  light  and  guid- 
ance before  answering,  and  then  I  said : 

"Allan,  do  you  intellectually  and  firmly  believe  the  New 
Testament  records  and  the  main  outline  of  the  Christian 
system ;  and  if  you  do,  have  you  any  feeling  at  all  connected 
with  them  and  their  bearing  upon  your  life?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "my  intellectual  belief  is  definite  and  de- 
cided, and  I  probably,  yes,  certainly,  have  some  desire  to  ac- 
cept the  truth  in  the  fuller,  Christian  sense." 

"Then,"  said  I,  "your  present  duty  is  clear  and  it  is  to 
pray  to  God  to  help  you  to  accept  in  this  fuller  sense.  Tell 
Him  of  your  full  intellectual  faith  and  your  feeble  heart 
faith.  Utter  sincerely  that  prayer  of  prayers  for  a  man  in 
such  a  world  and  such  a  life  as  this,  'Lord,  I  believe,  help 
Thou  mine  unbelief!'  Do  this  sincerely,  and  I  feel  satisfied 
the  heart  or  soul  part  of  your  faith  will  grow." 

He  protested  that  the  best  prayer  he  could  offer  would  be 
but  half-hearted  and  an  insult  to  God.  I  combatted  this 
idea,  contending  that  it  would  be  a  greater  neglect  and  insult 
not  to  attempt  to  pray  at  all,  and  he  finally  promised  he 
would  try.  When  I  next  saw  him  alone  I  think  we  were  on 
the  march  for  Chancellorsville.    He  was  evidently  unhappy, 


RELIGIOUS    LIFE   OF    LEE  S    ARMY  1 49 

and  when  I  asked  him  if  he  had  prayed,  he  said  he  had  not, 
that  he  had  been  upon  his  knees,  but  could  not  pray,  and 
added  that  his  nature  must  be  more  paralyzed  and  things 
even  worse  with  him  than  he  had  supposed.  I  saw  that 
another  Teacher  and  Physician  had  taken  the  case  out  of  my 
hand.  He  rather  clung  to  me,  but  I  thought  best  to  leave 
him  with  his  new  Teacher,  and  I  did. 

Two  of  our  comrades  were  killed  and  horribly  mangled 
by  solid  shot  or  whole  shell  in  our  Chancellorsville  fights, 
and  we  buried  one  of  them  at  night  in  a  thicket.  Returning 
there  after  the  burying  party  had  withdrawn,  I  saw  a  man 
on  his  knees  at  the  graveside.  It  was  Allan,  and  at  my 
approach  he  rose  and  advanced  to  meet  me,  saying : 

"Bob,  I  am  a  mystery  to  myself.  I  don't  see  how  I  am  to 
go  up  to  the  gun  in  to-morrow's  fight  and  face  temporal  and 
eternal  death;  and  yet  I  presume  I  shall  be  able  to  do  my 
duty." 

I  said  decidedly: 

"You  have  no  business,  Allan,  and  no  need  to  face  eter- 
nal death.  That  is  not  before  you,  unless  you  will  have  it 
so." 

We  said  a  few  words  to  each  other,  a  few  more  to  God, 
went  back  and  joined  the  sad  circle  around  the  camp  fire  a 
short  while,  and  then  laid  down  together.  I  think  I  told  him 
about  Billy,  and  then  we  slept. 

The  next  day,  after  evening  roll  call,  we  each  put  an  arm 
around  the  other's  waist  and  walked  off  into  the  woods,  and 
as  soon  as  we  got  out  of  earshot  of  others  I  began : 

"Well,  Allan,  to  go  back  where  we  left  off — " 

He  put  his  other  hand  in  mine  and  I  felt  a  thrill  as  he 
did  so,  while,  with  the  sweetest  smile,  he  said : 

"No,  Bob,  I  don't  think  we  will  go  back  there.  I've  gotten 
beyond  that  point,  and  I  don't  like  going  back.  I  have  found 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  or,  rather,  He  has  found  me  and  taken 
hold  of  me." 

It  was  the  largest,  the  most  thrilling  moment  of  my  life. 
Never  before  had  I  been  conscious  of  such  overpowering 
spiritual  joy.     We  were  for  the  moment  two  disembodied 


I50  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

human  souls  alone  with  God.  The  earth  with  its  trappings 
had  disappeared. 

It  was  my  last  word  with  him.  It  must  have  been  the  next 
day  that  I  received  my  first  promotion  and  left  for  Rich- 
mond, for  Beers  was  killed  at  Chancellorsville  and  I  buried 
him  at  Richmond.  When  I  returned  to  the  army  it  was  to 
Early's  division  of  the  Second  Corps.  True,  we  did  not  be- 
gin the  advance  into  Pennsylvania  for  almost  a  full  month 
after  Chancellorsville,  and  what  became  of  this  month  to 
me  I  cannot  say,  except  that  I  went  where  I  was  ordered, 
and  do  not  recall  meeting  the  Howitzers  again  until  after 
Gettysburg. 

On  his  way  to  his  last  battle  this  splendid  youth  wrote  to 
his  family  a  brief  note,  in  which  he  said : 

"In  the  hurry  of  the  march  I  have  little  time  for  thought, 
but  whenever  my  eternal  interests  do  occur  to  me,  I  feel  en- 
tire assurance  of  full  and  free  pardon  through  Jesus  Christ, 
and  if  called  upon  to  die  this  moment  I  think  I  could  do  so 
cheerfully." 

These  were  the  last  words  he  ever  wrote. 

After  Gettysburg  I  rode  over  to  the  old  battery  and  they 
told  me  this  story.  On  the  last  day,  worn  with  that  tre- 
mendous fight,  two  of  our  guns  had  taken  up  their  last  po- 
sition. All  thought  the  struggle  over.  Allan  had  just  seen 
a  friend  on  the  staff  who  promised  to,  and  did,  send  word 
home  of  his  safety  at  the  close  of  the  battle.  Suddenly  a 
terrific  fire  burst  thundering,  flashing,  crashing  upon  them 
and  No.  1,  while  ramming  home  the  shot,  had  the  sponge- 
staff  shattered  in  his  hands.  No.  1  was  Billy;  Allan  was 
gunner,  and  stooped  to  unkey  the  other  sponge.  A  frightful 
explosion,  the  piece  is  dismounted  and  most  of  the  detach- 
ment hurled  violently  to  the  earth ! 

The  sergeant,  a  quite,  phlegmatic  man,  looked  about  him 
in  horror.     The  lieutenant,  running  up,  demanded : 

"Why  don't  you  change  that  wheel?" 

"I  haven't  men  enough  left,  sir ;  we've  used  up  the  super- 
numeraries." 

"Where's  Allan?" 


RELIGIOUS  LIFE  OF  LEES  ARMY  151 

"There  he  is,  sir!" — pointing  to  a  mangled  mass  which 
no  one  had  the  nerve  to  approach.  There  lay  our  noble  com- 
rade, each  several  limb  thrice  broken,  the  body  gashed  with 
wounds,  the  top  of  the  skull  blown  off  and  the  brain  actually 
fallen  out  upon  the  ground  in  two  bloody,  palpitating  lobes. 
A  percussion  shell  had  struck  the  rim  of  the  wheel  while  he 
bent  behind  it  unkeying  the  rammer. 

His  chariot  and  horses  of  fire  had  caught  him  up  into 
Heaven. 


CHAPTER  XII 

BETWEEN   FREDERICKSBURG  AND   CHANCELLORSVILLE 

Our  Mother  and  Sisters  Arrive  From  the  North — A  Horse's  Instinct  of 
Locality  and  Direction — Our  Artillery  Battalion  and  Its  Command- 
er— Commerce  Across  the  Rappahannock — Snow-ball  Battles — A 
Commission  in  Engineer  Troops — An  Appointment  on  Jackson's 
Staff — Characteristic  Interview  Between  General  Jackson  and  My 
Father — The  Army  Telegraph — President  Lincoln's  Letter — Hook- 
er's Plan  Really  Great,  But  Lee's  Audacity  and  His  Army  Equal  to 
Any  Crisis — Head  of  Column,  to  the  Left  or  to  the  Right. 

In  the  four  or  five  months  between  Fredericksburg  and 
Chancellorsville,  that  is  to  say,  between  the  middle  of  De- 
cember, '62,  and  the  first  of  May,  '63,  several  things  oc- 
curred of  special  interest  to  me  personally,  as  well  as  several 
others  of  more  general  and  public  significance.  It  is  not 
possible  now  to  relate  these  events  in  their  exact  sequence, 
nor  even  to  be  confident  that  every  incident  referred  to  as 
belonging  to  this  period  actually  happened  between  the  dates 
mentioned ;  but  neither  of  these  considerations  is  important. 

To  my  next  younger  brother,  Randolph,  and  myself  the 
one  event  of  transcendent  interest  about  this  time  was  the 
long-deferred  arrival  in  Richmond  of  our  mother  and  sis- 
ters, whom  we  had  left  behind  in  New  Haven  in  the  spring 
of  '61.  Neither  of  us  had  heretofore  asked  anything  in  the 
nature  of  a  furlough,  or  leave  of  absence,  feeling  that  our 
comrades  who,  by  such  leave,  would  be  enabled  to  see  father 
and  mother,  sisters  and  home,  should  be  entitled  to  the  pref- 
erence ;  and  now,  when  it  became  known  that  our  dear  people 
were  in  Richmond,  everyone  stood  back  for  us  and  urged 
our  claims.  Not  only  did  the  captain  approve  our  applica- 
tion, but  the  first  lieutenant  offered  me  his  thoroughbred 
horse,    "Rebel,"  by  the   aid  of  whose  fleet  limbs   it  was 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 53 

thought  I  might  be  able  to  get  around  to  the  necessary  head- 
quarters in  a  day,  and  also,  perhaps,  have  a  chance  to  say  a 
word  in  behalf  of  my  brother  and  myself,  instead  of  wait- 
ing the  slow  process  and  the  somewhat  uncertain  result  of 
the  papers  working  their  own  way  through  "the  regular 
channels."  My  recollection  is  that  all  this  happened  about 
Christmas  time,  so  that  the  goodness  of  our  comrades  in 
standing  back  for  us  was  the  more  praiseworthy. 

I  did  succeed  in  making  "the  grand  rounds"  in  a  day,  but 
might  not  have  done  so  but  for  the  combined  intelligence  and 
stubborness  of  little  Rebel.  It  was  almost  dark  when  I  left 
the  last  headquarters  I  had  to  visit,  and  started  for  camp, 
which  was  a  long  distance  off,  and  the  latter  part  of  the 
way  almost  a  labyrinth  of  undistinguishable  army  tracks. 
The  road  was  yet,  however,  distinct,  and  my  horse  not  at  all 
fatigued  and  making  good  speed;  but  just  as  I  was  felici- 
tating myself  that  all  was  working  well,  the  road  turned 
sharply  to  the  left,  to  avoid  an  apparently  impassable 
swamp,  but  the  little  horse  absolutely  refused  to  turn  with  it, 
insisting  upon  going  directly  forward  into  the  swamp. 

I  fought  him  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  to  no  purpose.  He 
only  balked  and  wheeled  and  reared  and  plunged,  until 
finally,  utterly  worn  out,  I  gave  him  his  head  and  he  took 
and  kept  his  course,  as  the  crow  flies,  into  and  through  the 
swamp,  over  and  past  fence  and  ditch,  on  through  brush  and 
brake  and  briar  and  thicket,  I  making  no  effort  to  guide  or 
control  him;  indeed,  after  a  short  time,  utterly  unable  even 
to  see  where  he  was  going  and  only  attempting  to  lie  as 
close  as  possible  to  his  back  and  as  far  as  possible  to  protect 
my  face  and  eyes.  I  never  took  another  such  ride,  before  or 
since,  and  had  no  idea  when  or  where  it  would  end,  until  at 
last — yet  in  an  incredibly  short  time — the  little  fellow  push- 
ed his  determined  front  through  the  fringe  of  low  pines  that 
protected  our  battery  horse  shelters  and — we  were  at  home. 
1  was  bruised  and  scratched,  tired  and  cold,  wet  and  hungry, 
but  I  made  the  plucky  little  horse  comfortable  before  doing 
anything  for  myself,  and  next  morning  satisfied  myself  that 
he  had  never  before  been  over  the  tract  of  country  we  had 
traversed  together,  and  that  it  was  a  clear  case  of  unerring 


154  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

instinct  for  locality  and  direction.  I  had  all  the  required  en- 
dorsements, and  that  very  day  "Randy"  and  I  took  the  train 
for  Richmond,  the  two  happiest  boys  among  all  Marse 
Robert's  ragged  thousands. 

When  it  is  recalled  that  it  had  been  nearly  two  years  since 
we  left  our  mother  and  sisters  in  the  North ;  that  during  all 
this  time  we  had  only  irregular,  illegal,  and  very  infrequent 
communication  with  them,  and  consequently  had  now  all 
the  vivid  experiences  of  two  such  years  to  interchange,  the 
intense  interest  and  bliss  of  these  furlough  days  in  Richmond 
may  be  faintly  imagined.  My  memory  is  not  absolutely 
clear,  but  I  am  almost  positive  that  Mrs.  Beers  and  her  little 
girls  had  come  on  with  our  mother  and  sisters  and  that  Beers 
had  also  gotten  a  furlough  to  meet  them  and  was  in  Rich- 
mond with  us.  If  so,  it  was  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  the 
noble  fellow  alive.  It  will  be  remembered  he  fell  at  Chan- 
cellorsville. 

One  matter  of  very  great  importance  which  took  shape 
between  Fredericksburg  and  Chancellorsville  was  the  or- 
ganization of  our  (Cabell's)  battalion  of  artillery.  It  was 
made  up  of  four  batteries — ours,  the  First  Company,  Rich- 
mond Howitzers,  of  Virginia;  Manly's  Battery,  of  North 
Carolina;  the  Troupe  Artillery  and  Frazier's  Battery,  of 
Georgia;  and  it  included,  at  different  times,  from  sixteen  to 
eighteen  guns,  mostly  brass  Napoleons.  Its  commanding 
officer  was  Col.  H.  C.  Cabell,  a  member  of  the  historic  and 
illustrious  Virginia  family  of  that  name  and  a  man  every 
way  worthy  of  his  lineage. 

For  eighteen  months  of  the  hottest  part  of  the  war  I  was 
the  adjutant  of  Colonel  Cabell,  fighting  by  his  side  by  day 
and  sleeping  by  his  side  by  night,  eating  and  drinking  often 
out  of  the  same  tin  cup,  lying  upon  the  same  oil  cloth  and 
covered  with  the  same  blanket — side  by  side,  heart  to  heart,, 
soul  to  soul.  If  ever  I  knew  a  man  through  and  through,  I 
knew  him;  and  a  cleaner,  sweeter,  more  loyal  soul  I  never 
knew.  His  essential  characteristics  were  pure  and  unselfish 
nature,  tender  and  affectionate  heart,  gentle  and  unfailing 
courtesy,  single-hearted  and  devoted  patriotism,  quiet  but 
indomitable  courage.    I  never  knew  him  to  fail  to  he  at  the 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 55 

point  of  peril  along  the  front  of  his  battalion,  nor  there  nor 
anywhere  to  fail  to  measure  up  to  the  full  standard  of  a  bat- 
talion commander's  duty  and  responsibility.  I  never  knew 
him  to  shrink  from  any  hardship  or  any  duty  or  any  sacri- 
fice for  the  cause  to  which  we  had  devoted  our  lives.  I 
never  knew  him  to  fail  to  treat  a  private  soldier  with  a  con- 
sideration which  was  grateful  to  him,  and  yet  never  knew 
this  courtesy  to  interfere  with  the  maintenance  of  disci- 
pline. I  never  knew  him  to  wound  intentionally  the  feelings 
of  a  human  being,  or  fail  to  repair  the  wrong  if  committed 
inadvertently.  He  was  a  man  of  intellect  and  culture,  as 
well  as  character;  as  a  friend  ever  faithful,  as  a  companion 
always  agreeable,  as  an  officer  enjoying  the  unqualified  con- 
fidence and  approval  of  his  superiors,  and  the  universal  re- 
spect and  affection  of  his  subordinates. 

I  am  well  aware  that  all  this  should  have  resulted  in  even 
more,  but  he  who  never  did  injustice  to  others  never  did 
full  justice  to  himself.  He  lacked  self-assertion  and  aggres- 
sion ;  to  some  extent,  too,  he  lacked  the  manner  and  bearing 
of  a  soldier,  and  he  never  maneuvered  for  position  for  him- 
self or  his  battalion. 

He  was  not,  however,  lacking  in  proper  soldierly  ambi- 
tion. He  already  enjoyed  distinguished  position;  for  the 
officer  who  attains  and  reputably  maintains  the  rank  of  full 
colonel  of  artillery  fills  a  position  of  great  honor  and  re- 
sponsibility. But  he  was  much  pleased  to  learn  late  in  the 
war  that  certain  of  his  friends,  as  they  announced  them- 
selves, were  planning  to  secure  for  him  the  exceptional  rank 
of  brigadier-general  of  artillery.  He  was  interested  and 
gratified  until  he  accidentally  discovered  that  it  was  involved 
in  the  plan  that  he  should  be  retired  to  the  permanent  de- 
fenses of  Richmond,  and  another  officer  should  take  his  bat- 
talion in  the  field.  When  this  feature  was  developed,  for 
once  he  flamed  into  ungovernable  rage.  It  was  the  only  time 
I  ever  heard  him  swear.  "Stiles,"  said  he,  "what  do  these 
people  take  me  for?  Have  I  given  men  any  reason  to  con- 
sider me  a  damned  sneak  and  coward  and  fool  ?" 

I  cannot  forbear  a  trifling  incident,  revealing  in  a  flash  the 
simplicity  and  beauty  of  his  nature  and  of  our  relations  and 


156  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

intercourse.  It  occurred  at  the  left  base  of  the  Bloody  Angle 
at  Spottsylvania  in  1864,  where  one  or  two  of  his  batteries 
had  been  ordered  to  take  the  place  of  some  of  our  artillery 
which  had  been  captured,  and  to  stay  the  rout.  The  guns 
were  in  column  back  of  the  lines,  awaiting  our  return,  we 
having  ridden  into  that  gloomy  pit  of  defeat  and  demoraliza- 
tion to  determine  exactly  where  they  should  be  placed.  As 
we  came  out,  before  riding  back  to  bring  up  the  guns,  we 
dismounted  in  a  place  of  comparative  security,  just  to  stretch 
our  limbs  and  unbend  a  moment  from  the  awful  tension. 
Leaving  his  horse,  Colonel  Cabell  walked  up  to  me,  color 
mounting  his  face  and  tears  filling  his  eyes,  and  threw  his 
arms  about  me,  saying  in  a  voice  husky  with  feeling  exactly 
these  words :  "Stiles,  if  you  should  dare  to  get  killed,  I'd 
never  forgive  you." 

Such  was  the  commanding  officer  of  our  battalion.  Either 
at  the  organization  or  soon  after,  Major  S.  P.  Hamilton,  of 
South  Carolina,  was  assigned  to  duty  with  the  command, 
and  at  a  later  period  Major  W.  H.  Gibbes,  of  the  same 
State,  was  with  us  for  a  few  weeks  or  months.  I  am  not 
certain  as  to  the  date  of  my  first  service  with  the  battalion  as 
adjutant.  Some  of  my  comrades  insist  that  it  was  from  the 
inception;  but  I  am  sure  this  is  not  true,  unless,  as  is  pos- 
sible, I  may  have  been  detailed  by  Colonel  Cabell  to  aid 
temporarily  in  arranging  matters  and  getting  the  new  or- 
ganization in  working  order.  I  could  not  have  been  regu- 
larly even  "acting  adjutant,"  for  I  held  no  commission 
until  after  Chancellorsville,  a  battle  in  which  we  were 
fought  as  a  battalion,  though  in  two  divisions,  while  I  dis- 
tinctly remember  I  fought  as  a  private  soldier,  in  the  old 
battery,  in  my  usual  position  at  my  own  gun. 

Soon  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  whether  on  the  Vir- 
ginia or  Maryland  side  of  the  river  I  do  not  now  remember, 
Colonel  Cabell  met  me  and  asked  what  I  was  doing,  and 
learning  that  I  was  at  the  time  a  sort  of  free  lance,  with  one 
of  the  artillery  battalions  of  the  Second  Corps,  urged  me  to 
get  the  informal  permission  of  General  Early,  with  whose 
headquarters  I  kept  up  some  sort  of  connection,  and  go 
back  with  him  to  the  First  Corps  and  act  as  adjutant  of  his 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 57 

battalion,  which  I  did;  he  promising  to  get  a  regular  order 
assigning  me  to  this  duty.  Upon  reflection,  I  think  the  first 
order  of  detail  for  duty  at  his  headquarters,  by  Colonel 
Cabell  himself,  prior  to  Chancellorsville,  as  above  suggested, 
is  very  probable,  as  I  do  not  otherwise  see  how  the  Colonel 
would  have  known  me  or  had  reason  to  suppose  I  would  be 
satisfactory  to  him  in  the  position. 

Among  matters  worthy  of  note  occurring  prior  to  Chan- 
cellorsville, it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  mention  the  very 
active  commerce  or  interchange  of  commodities,  carried  on 
by  tiny  sailing  vessels,  between  the  north  and  south  banks 
of  the  Rappahannock  River,  at  and  below  Fredericksburg, 
both  before  and  after  that  battle.  .The  communication  was 
almost  constant  and  the  vessels  many  of  them  really  beauti- 
ful little  craft,  with  shapely  hulls,  nicely  painted;  elaborate 
rigging,  trim  sails,  closed  decks,  and  perfect  working  steer- 
ing apparatus.  The  cargoes,  besides  the  newspapers  of  the 
two  sides,  usually  consisted  on  our  side  of  tobacco  and  on 
the  Federal  side  of  coffee  and  sugar,  yet  the  trade  was  by 
no  means  confined  to  these  articles,  and  on  a  sunny,  pleasant 
day  the  waters  were  fairly  dotted  with  the  fairy  fleet.  Many 
a  weary  hour  of  picket  duty  was  thus  relieved  and  lightened, 
and  most  of  the  officers  seemed  to  wink  at  the  infraction  of 
military  law,  if  such  it  was.  A  few  rigidly  interdicted  it,  but 
it  never  really  ceased. 

Another  institutional  amusement  of  the  army  in  the  win- 
ter of  '62-3,  which  tended  greatly  to  relieve  the  almost  un- 
endurable tedium  of  camp  life,  was  the  snow-ball  battle. 
These  contests  were  unique  in  many  respects.  In  the  first 
place  here  was  sport,  or  friendly  combat,  on  the  grandest 
scale,  perhaps,  known  in  modern  times.  Entire  brigades 
lined  up  against  each  other  for  the  fight.  And  not  the 
masses  of  men  only,  but  the  organized  military  bodies — the 
line  and  field  officers,  the  bands  and  the  banners,  the  gen- 
erals and  their  staffs,  mounted  as  for  genuine  battle.  There 
was  the  formal  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  camp,  and 
the  refusal,  the  charge,  and  the  repulse ;  the  front,  the  flank, 
the  rear  attack.  And  there  was  intense  earnestness  in  the 
struggle — sometimes  limbs  were  broken  and  eyes,  at  least 


158  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

temporarily,  put  out,  and  the  camp  equipment  of  the  van- 
quished was  regarded  as  fair  booty  to  the  victors. 

I  recall  a  visit  paid  in  company  with  my  father,  not  long 
after  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  to  the  camp  of  my  uncle 
mentioned  in  a  former  chapter  as  having  been  in  command 
of  Lawton's  brigade  in  that  fight.  He  was  still  in  command 
of  it.  My  father  asked  the  cause  of  several  very  heavy 
bruises  on  his  face.  I  never  saw  my  uncle  more  deeply  em- 
barrassed, as  he  related,  blushing  like  a  girl,  what  he  called 
his  "preposterous  experience"  in  leading  his  brigade  the  day 
before  in  a  snow  battle  with  Hoke's,  which  lasted  several 
hours — and  as  the  really  laughable  picture  was  developed, 
its  strong  coloring  heightened  by  my  uncle's  embarrassed 
blushes,  I  never  saw  my  father  more  heartily  amused.  It 
seemed  that  my  uncle  at  one  point  in  the  conflict  had  been 
dragged  from  his  horse  and  captured  by  Hoke's  men,  but 
later  had  been  recaptured  by  his  own  command,  and  on  both 
occasions  had  been  pretty  roughly  handled.  One  would 
have  supposed  these  veteran  troops  had  seen  too  much  of 
the  real  thing  to  seek  amusement  in  playing  at  battle. 

I  had  now  been  in  the  army  for  nearly  two  years  and 
was  still  a  private  soldier,  yet  quite  content  as  such.  My 
mental  attitude  in  this  regard  was  perhaps  rather  unusual. 
I  had  originally  volunteered  exclusively  from  sense  of  duty, 
regarding  the  war,  so  far  as  it  affected  me  personally,  as  an 
interruption  to  my  personal  purposes  and  ambitions  in  con- 
nection with  the  law ;  but  I  was  never  one  of  those  who  con- 
sidered the  conflict  to  be  a  matter  of  sixty  or  ninety  days 
or  a  year,  and  soon  came  to  look  upon  it  as  of  indefinite 
duration  and  likely  to  prove  an  absorbing  business  to  me  for 
a  long  time  to  come.  Gradually  I  became  interested  in 
military  life  and  began  to  contemplate  it  as  perhaps  my  life 
work,  and  from  this  time  my  interest  in  it  grew  apace.  Still 
I  had  thought  little  of  promotion  except  in  the  aspect  of 
making  myself  deserving  of  it.  True,  General  Hill  had,  at 
■quite  an  early  period,  said  something  of  a  commission,  but 
none  had  come,  and  I  had  continued  to  look  upon  the  po- 
sition, even  of  a  corporal,  as  requiring  a  certain  amount  of 
military  aptitude,  not  to  say  talent  and  training,  which  I 
was  not  confident  I  had. 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 59 

But  this  morbid  and  unpractical  view  of  things  was  giv- 
ing way  before  the  stubborn  fact,  established  by  observa- 
tion and  experience,  that  I  every  day  saw  men  in  position 
far  above  me,  obviously  my  inferiors  in  every  qualification 
and  requisite  for  rank  and  command;  nor  could  I  be  blind 
to  the  further  fact  that  my  commanding  officers  regarded 
me  with  rather  special  confidence  and  approval.  Gradually  I 
came  to  entertain  the  idea  that  I  might  some  day  be  offered 
promotion  and  perhaps  should  not  feel  called  upon  to  reject 
it,  though  I  could  never  contemplate  any  effort  on  my  part  to 
secure  it. 

While  I  was  in  this  state  of  mind,  some  little  time  before 
the  opening  of  the  Chancellorsville  campaign,  I  received  a 
communication  from  the  Engineer  Bureau  in  Richmond  con- 
taining an  appointment  to  a  second  lieutenancy  in  "Engi- 
neer Troops,"  a  new  corps  about  to  be  organized  in  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  There  was  no  explanation 
accompanying  the  paper,  and  I  did  not  recognize  as  famil- 
iar any  name  connected  with  it,  and  after  due  reflection  con- 
cluded that  the  communication  had  been  sent  me  by  mistake 
and  was  intended  for  my  cousin,  Robert  Mackay  Stiles,  who 
was  an  engineer,  as  I  understood,  then  serving  in  the  far 
South  in  some  appropriate  capacity.  I  supposed  his  services 
were  desired  in  organizing  the  new  corps,  and  I  actually  re- 
turned the  paper,  with  the  above  suggestion,  and  therewith 
dismissed  the  matter  from  my  mind.  Meanwhile  there  oc- 
curred one  of  the  most  noteworthy  experiences  of  my  life. 

The  very  day,  I  think  it  was,  of  what  might  be  termed 
"our  spring  opening"  of  '63,  and  probably  before  we  made 
the  first  move  looking  toward  Chancellorsville,  I  was  busy 
about  some  duty  in  the  battery,  when  I  heard  the  captain's 
voice  calling  me  sharply,  and  as  I  approached  his  quarters 
noticed  a  courier  just  leaving.  The  captain  informed  me  that 
General  Jackson  had  sent  an  order  for  me  to  report  imme- 
diately at  his  headquarters.  When  my  first  surprise  sub- 
sided I  told  Captain  McCarthy,  what  I  was  then  confident 
was  the  case,  that  the  message  was  doubtless  from  my  father, 
who  loved  to  work  in  the  Second  Corps,  and  spent  much 
time  at  the  General's  quarters ;  but  the  captain  protested  that 


l6o  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  order  was  from  "Old  Jack"  himself,  that  he  could  not 
imagine  what  he  wanted  with  me ;  he  hoped  not  to  have  me 
shot  for  some  violation  of  military  law.  "However,"  said 
he,  "you  had  better  take  one  of  the  sergeant's  horses  and  go 
and  find  out  for  yourself" — which  I  proceeded  at  once  to 
do ;  but  had  not  gotten  beyond  the  confines  of  camp  before  I 
heard  the  captain  calling  again,  the  utterance  of  my  name 
this  time  alternating  with  shouts  and  peals  of  laughter.  On 
riding  up  I  found  him  reading,  for  the  second  time,  an  auto- 
graph note  from  General  Jackson,  addressed  to  Captain  Mc- 
Carthy, and  to  the  following  effect :  that  if  we  had  not  al- 
ready received  orders  to  move  we  would  receive  them  in  a 
few  moments;  that  Robert  Stiles  must  not  report  to  him 
until  further  orders ;  that  he  didn't  want  any  "untried  man" 
about  him  when  about  to  move. 

The  relations  of  our  captain  to  the  better  soldiers  in  the 
battery  were  peculiar  and  enjoyable.  On  duty  he  was  our 
commanding  officer,  off  duty  our  intimate  friend.  I  used  to 
call  him  "the  intelligent  young  Irishman,"  and  to  tell  the 
following  story  in  explanation :  Just  before  the  Howitzers 
left  Richmond,  in  the  spring  of  '61,  General  Magruder  called 
upon  Major  Randolph  to  send  him  a  suitable  man  for  a 
courier,  adding,  "intelligent  young  Irishman  preferred" — 
and  McCarthy  was  sent  as  "filling  the  bill."  The  captain 
had  long  been  "laying  for  me,"  as  the  saying  is,  and  now  he 
had  his  revenge — "Old  Jack"  had  conferred  upon  me  ortho- 
dox Presbyterian  baptism  as  "the  untried  man,"  and  so  far 
as  the  captain  was  concerned,  certainly  the  name  "stuck." 

What  would  he  and  I  have  given,  two  or  three  days  later, 
to  recall  the  action  of  the  next  few  moments.  I  distinctly 
remember  the  general  appearance  of  General  Jackson's  note. 
It  was  written  in  pencil  on  a  small  half  sheet  of  bluish  paper, 
evidently  torn  from  a  letter,  and  I  remember,  too,  how  Cap- 
tain McCarthy — laughing  still — tore  it  up,  when  he  had  read 
it  out  three  or  four  times,  and  how  the  fragments  floated 
adown  the  air.  I  told  Mrs.  Jackson  of  the  circumstance  not 
long  after  the  war,  and  she  pronounced  the  contents  of  the 
note,  and  particularly  the  last  clause,  to  be  strongly  illus- 
trative of  the  directness  and  concentration  which  rendered 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  l6T 

her  husband  oblivious  of  everything  but  the  one  idea  at  any 
one  time  having  possession  of  him. 

A  few  days  later,  but  after  Jackson's  death,  my  father 
gave  me  what  I  may  term  the  obverse,  or  face  side,  of  this 
incident.  He  was  at  Jackson's  headquarters  when  the  Gen- 
eral, as  it  were  in  a  tone  of  inquiry,  said : 

"Doctor,  I  understand  you  have  a  son  in  the  army?" 

"Yes,  General,"  my  father  answered,  "I  have  three  of 
them." 

"One  is  like  you,  isn't  he  ?" 

"No,  sir;  I  don't  know  that  either  of  them  is  specially  like 
me." 

Then,  somewhat  impatiently : 

"Well,  your  oldest  son  is  named  Robert,  isn't  he?" 

"Yes,  Bob  is  my  eldest  son." 

"From  what  I  have  heard  of  him,  I  think  I  should  like  to 
have  him  with  me." 

"Well,  sir,  I  would  be  delighted  to  have  him  come." 

"But  it  isn't  for  you  to  say,  Doctor;  he  ought  to  be  al- 
lowed to  decide  for  himself.  Besides,  both  of  you  should 
consider  that  the  probability  of  his  being  killed  will  be 
greatly  increased.  I  am  liable  to  make  mistakes  in  my  or- 
ders and  to  send  a  man  into  danger  that  might  be  avoided 
by  going  around  some  longer  and  less  perilous  route.  But 
he  must  not  stop  to  consider  this.  He  must  take  his  life 
in  his  hand  and  carry  my  orders  as  I  send  them." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  think  I  understand,  and  I  am  sure  Bob  will 
carry  your  orders  as  you  send  them.  His  life  is  in  God's 
hands.  Longer  or  shorter,  I  would  like  to  have  him  spend  it 
with  you,  and  I  am  sure  that  would  be  his  choice,  too." 

"But,  Doctor,  you  have  no  right  to  decide  for  him.  Tell 
him  all  I  have  told  you,  and  let  him  decide  for  himself." 

"But,  General,  I  do  decide  and  have  decided,  for  Bob  and 
for  myself.    He  will  be  delighted  to  come  to  you." 

"Very  well,  sir.  In  my  opinion  you  have  no  right  to 
make  this  decision,  but  if  you  insist  upon  taking  the  re- 
sponsibility, I'll  send  for  your  son." 

And  he  did,  with  the  result  already  given. 


l62  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

He  was  not  as  sure  of  me  as  my  dear  father  was ;  to  Jack- 
son, certainly,  I  was  "the  untried  man."  I  have  often  thought 
what  might  have  been  if  I  had  gone  to  him  that  day.  Of 
course  my  blood  would  have  been  up,  and  the  chances  are 
very  great  that  I  would  have  fallen  that  fateful  night  in  the 
Chancellorsville  Wilderness,  when  the  wondrous  captain  did 
make  one  of  those  mistakes  to  which  he  said  he  was  "liable," 
and  which  then  cost,  not  a  little  life  like  mine,  but  that  great 
life  of  his,  upon  which  destiny  and  history  hung. 

Among  the  pet  names  with  which  our  constant  lover,  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  was  wont  to  soften  and  sweeten  its 
early  spring  wooings  of  us  was  "Damned  sassafras-tea- 
drinking  rebels."  If  a  trifle  vigorous  and  not  even  a  trifle 
euphonious,  it  was  yet  certainly  appropriate  and  suggestive, 
for  the  first  steady  spring  sunshine,  that  dried  out  the  roads 
and  caused  the  sassafras  buds  to  swell,  sent  the  first  tremors 
of  returning  life  darting  through  the  coils  of  the  great  ser- 
pentine armies  which  had  lain  torpid  in  the  winter's  cold, 
until  suddenly  the  one  or  the  other  monster  glided,  hissing 
from  its  den,  and  delivered  its  stroke.  To  our  friends,  the 
enemy,  the  only  relation  between  the  swelling  of  the  sassa- 
fras buds  and  the  spring-burst  of  battle  was  chronological ; 
but  with  us  the  sassafras  amounted  almost  to  a  sub-commis- 
sariat— we  chewed  it,  we  drank  it,  we  smelled  it,  and  it  was 
ever  at  hand  without  the  trouble  or  expense  of  transport. 

All  through  the  latter  part  of  April,  '63,  even  more  than 
the  normal  premonitory  spring  shudderings  were  noted 
throughout  the  great  winter  camps  and  quarters  of  the 
Federal  army  corps  across  the  river,  and  very  soon  the 
marvelous  army  telegraph  was  in  full  operation.  Every  sur- 
viving veteran  of  either  side  will  understand  what  I  mean. 
It  was  really  little  less  than  miraculous  the  way  in  which  in- 
formation— often  astonishingly  correct — as  to  what  had 
happened  or  was  about  to  happen,  was  transmitted  along  the 
lines  of  the  army.  Partial  explanations  readily  occur,  but  I 
have  yet  to  meet  the  first  intelligent  and  observant  soldier 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  who  is  not  ready  to  admit 
that,  in  some  instances,  the  rapid  transmission  of  news  and 
the  detailed  accuracy  of  forecast  that  sifted  through  the 
army  were  at  the  time,  and  remain  to-day,  inexplicable. 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 63 

Of  course  we  knew  of  the  resignation  or  removal  of 
Burnside  and  the  appointment  of  Hooker  as  his  successor, 
late  in  January,  and  we  had  seen,  too,  the  remarkable  order  of 
the  latter,  issued  upon  assuming  command,  in  which  he  de- 
clared that :  "In  equipment,  intelligence,  and  valor,  the  enemy 
is  our  inferior.  Let  us  never  hesitate  to  give  him  battle  when- 
ever we  can  find  him."  From  this  order,  as  well  as  from  his 
military  history,  with  which  we  were  familiar,  we  "knew 
our  man."  We  knew  also  the  atmosphere  that  surrounded 
his  appointment,  but  I  for  one  never  saw,  until  long  after 
the  war,  the  remarkable  letter  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  his  ap- 
pointee, which  not  only  revives  and  bears  out  my  recollection 
of  the  spirit  of  the  times,  but  fills  me  with  amazement  that  a 
self-respectful  officer  could  have  accepted  an  appointment 
confirmed  or  accompanied  by  such  a  letter : 

Executive  Mansion, 
Washington,  D.  C, 

January  26,  1863. 
Major-General  Hooker: 

General : — I  have  placed  you  at  the  head  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
Of  course  I  have  done  this  upon  what  appears  to  me  to  be  sufficient 
reasons.  And  yet  I  think  it  best  for  you  to  know  that  there  are  some 
things  in  regard  to  which  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  you.  I  believe  you 
to  be  a  brave  and  skilful  soldier,  which,  of  course,  I  like.  I  also  believe 
you  do  not  mix  politics  with  your  profession,  in  which  you  are  right.  You 
have  confidence  in  yourself,  which  is  a  valuable,  if  not  an  indispensable 
quality.  You  are  ambitious,  which,  within  reasonable  bounds,  does  good 
rather  than  harm.  But  I  think  that  during  General  Burnside's  command 
of  the  army  you  have  taken  counsel  of  your  ambition  and  thwarted 
him  as  much  as  you  could,  in  which  you  did  a  great  wrong  both  to  the 
country  and  to  a  meritorious  and  honorable  brother  officer.  I  have 
heard  in  such  a  way  as  to  believe  it  of  your  recently  saying  that  both 
the  army  and  the  Government  needed  a  dictator.  Of  course  it  was  not 
for  this,  but  in  spite  of  it,  that  I  have  given  you  the  command.  Only 
those  generals  who  gain  successes  can  set  up  as  dictators.  What  I  now 
ask  of  you  is  military  success,  and  I  will  risk  the  dictatorship.  The  Gov- 
ernment will  support  you  to  the  utmost  of  its  ability,  which  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  it  has  done  and  will  do  for  all  commanders.  I  much 
fear  the  spirit  you  have  aided  to  infuse  into  the  army,  of  criticising  their 
commander  and  withholding  confidence  from  him,  will  now  turn  upon 


164  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

you.  I  shall  assist  you  as  far  as  I  can  to  put  it  down.  Neither  you  nor 
Napoleon,  if  he  were  alive  again,  could  get  any  good  out  of  an  army 
while  such  a  spirit  prevails  in  it.  And  now,  beware  of  rashness !  beware 
of  rashness !  but  with  energy  and  sleepless  vigilance,  go  forward  and 
give  us  victories.  Yours  very  truly, 

A.   LINCOLN. 

One  of  the  ablest  discussions  of  Chancellorsville  from  the 
Confederate  side  is  to  be  found  in  an  address  delivered  by 
Gen.  Fitzhugh  Lee  before  the  Virginia  Division  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  on  the  24th  of  October,  1879. 
In  that  address  the  author  says  of  this  battle  that,  "It  brings 
before  the  military  student  as  high  a  type  of  an  offensive 
battle  as  ever  adorned  the  pages  of  history."  Col.  Walter 
Taylor  says :  "Of  all  the  battles  fought  by  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia,  that  of  Chancellorsville  stands  first  as 
illustrating  the  consummate  audacity  and  military  skill  of 
commanders  and  the  valor  and  determination  of  the  men." 
It  is  probable  that  the  general  consensus  of  opinion  among 
the  surviving  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  Confederacy  con- 
curs in  these  estimates.  My  own  conception  of  the  matter 
was  at  the  time,  and  has  ever  since  been,  that  the  brilliant 
genius  and  audacious  courage  of  Lee  and  Jackson  shone  so 
conspicuously  throughout  these  operations,  partly  because 
the  plan  of  their  adversary  was  truly  great — far  superior  to 
anything  that  had  theretofore  been  projected  against  Lee 
and  his  staunch  soldiers. 

The  battle  is  of  such  exceptional  interest,  and  at  the  same 
time  savors  so  much  of  the  marvelous,  that  I  ask  pardon  for 
making  a  lengthy  quotation  from  Colonel  Taylor's  book, 
premising  that  it  was  twelve  miles  or  more  from  Deep  Run, 
below  Fredericksburg,  where  Sedgwick  and  Early  opposed 
each  other,  to  Chancellorsville,  the  position  selected  by 
Hooker  as  the  base  of  his  main  operations  and  where  he  had 
concentrated  the  bulk  of  his  army.  On  pages  83-5  of  his 
"Four  Years  with  General  Lee,"  Colonel  Taylor  says : 

General  Lee,  with  fifty-seven  thousand  troops  of  all  arms,  intrenched 
along  the  line  of  hills  south  of  the  Rappahannock,  near  Fredericksburg, 
was  confronted  by  General  Hooker,  with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  one 
hundred  and  thirty-two  thousand  strong,  occupying  the  bluffs  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river. 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 65 

On  the  29th  of  April  the  Federal  commander  essayed  to  put  into  exe- 
cution an  admirably  conceived  plan  of  operations,  from  which  he  doubt- 
less concluded  that  he  could  compel  either  the  evacuation  by  General 
Lee  of  his  strongly  fortified  position,  or  else  his  utter  discomfiture,  when 
unexpectedly  and  vigorously  assailed  upon  his  left  flank  and  rear  by  the 
"finest  army  on  the  planet" — really  more  than  twice  the  size  of  his  own. 

A  formidable  force,  under  General  Sedgwick,  was  thrown  across  the 
river  below  Frederickburg,  and  made  demonstrations  of  an  intention  to 
assail  the  Confederate  front.  Meanwhile,  with  great  celerity  and 
secrecy,  General  Hooker,  with  the  bulk  of  his  army,  crossed  at  the  upper 
fords,  and  in  an  able  manner  and  wonderfully  short  time  had  concen- 
trated four  of  his  seven  army  corps,  numbering  fifty-six  thousand  men, 
at  Chancellorsville,  about  ten  miles  west  of  Fredericksburg.  His  pur- 
pose was  now  fully  developed  to  General  Lee,  who,  instead  of  waiting  its 
further  prosecution,  immediately  determined  on  the  movement  the  least 
expected  by  his  opponent.  He  neither  proceeded  to  make  strong  his 
left  against  attack  from  the  direction  of  Chancellorsville,  nor  did  he 
move  southward  so  as  to  put  his  army  between  that  of  General  Hooker 
and  the  Confederate  capital ;  but  leaving  General  Early  with  about  nine 
thousand  men  to  take  care  of  General  Sedgwick,  he  moved  with  the  re- 
mainder of  his  army,  numbering  forty-eight  thousand  men,  toward 
Chancellorsville.  As  soon  as  the  advance  of  the  enemy  was  encountered, 
it  was  attacked  with  vigor,  and  very  soon  the  Federal  army  was  on  the 
defensive  in  its  apparently  impregnable  position.  It  was  not  the  part 
of  wisdom  to  attempt  to  storm  the  stronghold ;  but  Sedgwick  would  cer- 
tainly soon  be  at  work  in  the  rear,  and  Early,  with  his  inadequate  force, 
could  not  do  more  than  delay  and  hamper  him.  It  was,  therefore,  imper- 
atively necessary  to  strike — to  strike  boldly,  effectively  and  at  once. 
There  could  be  no  delay.  Meanwhile  two  more  army  corps  had  joined 
General  Hooker,  who  had  now  about  Chancellorsville  ninety-one  thous- 
and men — six  corps,  except  one  division  of  the  second  corps  (Couch's) 
which  had  been  left  with  Sedgwick  at  Fredericksburg.  It  was  a  critical 
position  for  the  Confederate  commander,  but  his  confidence  in  his 
trusted  lieutenant  and  brave  men  was  such  that  he  did  not  long  hesi- 
tate. Encouraged  by  the  counsel  and  confidence  of  General  Jackson,  he 
determined  still  further  to  divide  his  army;  and  while  he,  with  the 
divisions  of  Anderson  and  McLaws,  less  than  fourteen  thousand  men, 
should  hold  the  enemy  in  his  front,  he  would  hurl  Jackson  upon  his 
flank  and  rear  and  crush  and  crumble  him  as  between  the  upper  and 
nether  millstone.  The  very  boldness  of  the  movement  contributed  much 
to  insure  its  success. 

This  battle  illustrates  most  admirably  the  peculiar  talent  and  individ- 
ual excellence  of  Lee  and  Jackson.  For  quickness  of  perception,  bold- 
ness in  planning  and  skill  in  directing,  Lee  had  no  superior ;  for  celerity 


l66  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

in  his  movements,  audacity  in  the  execution  of  bold  designs  and  impet- 
uosity in  attacking,  Jackson  had  not  his  peer. 

About  the  28th  of  April  dispatches  by  the  army  or  grape- 
vine telegraph  began  to  come  in  very  rapidly,  and  that,  too, 
minutely  and  correctly  revealing  the  situation.  We  were  at 
the  time  in  camp  a  little  back  of  the  main  fortified  line. 
That  evening,  I  think  it  was,  we  received  orders  to  be  ready 
to  move  at  a  moment's  notice.  Very  early  next  morning  we 
heard  firing  in  the  direction  of  Fredericksburg.  It  was  very 
foggy,  and  we  could  see  nothing,  but  understood  that  a 
heavy  force  of  the  enemy  was  crossing  to  our  side.  They 
remained  all  day  concealed  under  the  river  bank,  but  at 
night — I  think  the  night  of  the  29th — deployed  out  into  po- 
sition in  the  great  plain.  Meanwhile  our  battery  had  been 
ordered  to  the  same  position  it  had  occupied  in  the  battle  of 
Fredericksburg,  and  all  during  that  day  Hooker's  plan  of 
operations  was  becoming  more  and  more  clearly  developed, 
and  with  Sedgwick  in  our  front  and  Hooker  in  overwhelm- 
ing force  in  the  rear  of  our  left  flank,  we  deeply  felt  its 
power. 

The  discussion  waxed  hot  as  to  what  Marse  Robert  would 
do.  Until  he  decided,  none  of  us  knew  what  was  best,  yet 
the  counter  plot  was  intensely  absorbing,  and  when  at  last — I 
think  it  was  the  night  of  the  30th — orders  came  for  us  to 
limber  up  and  move  out  by  the  little  road  by  which  we  had 
come  in,  and  which  ran  at  right  angles  between  the  lines 
and  the  main  road  running  parallel  to  the  river,  the  interest 
was  intense,  and  the  dry  betting  ran  high  as  to  whether, 
when  we  struck  the  main  road,  it  would  be  "head  of 
column  to  the  right"  or  to  "the  left."  If  the  latter,  then  we 
would  know  Marse  Robert  had  concluded  that  it  was  the 
part  of  wisdom  to  put  his  army  between  Sedgwick  and  Rich- 
mond and  to  maneuver  all  the  attacking  columns  of  his  ene- 
mies to  his  front.  In  that  case  we  might  exhale  a  deep,  full 
breath ;  for  a  little  while,  at  least,  the  extreme  tension  would 
be  off.  But  if  the  horses'  heads  turned  to  the  right,  then 
we  knew  well  that  it  was  to  be  the  closest  and  deadliest  grap- 
ple we  had  ever  experienced.  I  cannot  remember  which  I 
thought  the  wiser  alternative  or  what  part  I  took  in  the  dis- 


FREDERICKSBURG    TO    CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 67 

ciission;  but  I  do  distinctly  recall  that  when  the  first  gun 
struck  the  main  road  and  the  heads  of  the  leaders  swung 
around  to  the  right,  I  drew  in  my  breath  and  set  my  teeth, 
calling  upon  what  was  best  and  strongest  in  my  entire  being 
to  brace  me  for  the  struggle. 

I  think  it  was  a  day  or  so  before  we  finally  left  the  Fred- 
ericksburg lines  that  there  occurred  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able minor  incidents  I  witnessed  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  the  war.  We  had  lifted  the  ammunition  chest  out 
of  the  hole,  back  of  and  beneath  the  little  work  we  had 
been  occupying,  and  had  replaced  it  upon  the  gun  carriage 
and  limbered  up  the  piece.  A  group  of  about  a  dozen  men, 
not  all  belonging  to  our  battery,  were  standing  upon  the 
earth-work  gazing  across  the  river  bottom  to  the  Stafford 
side,  when  a  little  puff  of  white  smoke  indicated  that  the 
gentlemen  on  the  other  side  had  determined  to  try  their  long- 
range  guns.  The  shell  flew  a  little  too  high,  but  directly  above 
us  and  too  close  to  be  comfortable.  Before  quite  reaching  us, 
however,  it  began  to  wobble  and  turn  over,  indicating  that 
the  projectile  or  propulsive  force  was  well  nigh  exhausted. 
My  recollection  is  that  we  could  see  the  shell  distinctly.  An 
infantryman  jumped  from  the  work  into  the  hole  just  va- 
cated by  the  limber  chest.  The  shell  exploded  just  after  it 
passed  us,  and  the  base  came  hurtling  back  and  actually 
dashed  out  the  brains  of  that  man,  the  only  man  who  had 
not  stood  his  ground.  Several  other  shots  were  fired,  but 
not  a  man  flinched  and  not  another  man  was  injured. 

I  was  reminded  of  a  story  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  who 
in  visiting  his  picket  line  with  the  corporal  of  the  guard 
came  to  a  position  which  commanded  just  the  view  he  want- 
ed of  the  enemy's  lines,  but  was  exposed  to  a  galling  and  dan- 
gerous fire  from  their  sharpshooters.  The  little  corporal 
was  standing,  absorbed  as  was  his  wont  when  analyzing  a 
battle-field,  head  sunk  between  his  shoulders,  hands  behind 
his  back  and  limbs  far  apart.  He  turned  to  speak  to  the  cor- 
poral of  the  guard,  and  just  as  he  did  so  a  ball  passed  be- 
tween the  Emperor's  legs  and  killed  the  corporal,  crouching 
behind  him  for  protection.  Two  soldiers  stooped  to  pick 
up  the  body,  but  the  Emperor  hissed  out,  "Behold  the  just 
fate  of  the  coward.    Let  the  carrion  rot." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CHANCELLORSVILLE 

On  the  March — The  Light  Division  Passes  Our  Guns — Marse  Robert 
Passes  the  Light  Division — The  Two  Little  Dogs  of  the  Battalion 
— Two  of  Our  Guns  Take  Chancellorsville  in  Reverse — Interview 
with  General  McLaws — Entire  Regiment  from  New  Haven,  Conn., 
Captured — Brother  William  and  Marse  Robert — Sedgwick — Hooker 
— His  Battle  Orders — His  Compliment  to  Lee's  Army — Lee's  Order 
Announcing  Jackson's  Death. 

I  recall  but  one  or  two  features  of  the  march  to  Chancel- 
lorsville. We  were  with  McLaws'  division,  and  of  the 
14,000  (Anderson's  and  McLaws'  commands)  with  which 
General  Lee  undertook  to  hold,  and  did  hold,  the  front  of 
Hooker's  92,000,  while  Jackson,  with  the  balance  of  our 
forces,  swung  around  his  right  flank  and  rear. 

Two  of  our  batteries,  the  Howitzers  and  Manly's,  left 
Fredericksburg  at  midnight,  April  30th,  1863,  and  early  on 
the  morning  of  May  1st  were  drawn  up  in  column  on  the 
side  of  the  Old  Turnpike,  head  toward  Chancellorsville,  to 
allow  the  "Light  Division,"  as  Gen.  A.  P.  Hill's  command 
was  called,  to  pass.  Jackson,  as  we  understood,  was  some- 
where ahead,  and  Hill's  superb  troops  seemed  to  be  re- 
solved that  he  should  not  be  compelled  to  wait  even  a  mo- 
ment for  them.  They  were  in  light  marching  order,  and  I 
thought  I  had  never  seen  anything  equal  to  the  swinging, 
silent  stride  with  which  they  fairly  devoured  the  ground. 
The  men  were  magnified  in  the  morning  mist  which  over- 
hung the  low  flat-lands  they  were  traversing,  and  at  the  same 
time  imparted  a  ghostly  indistinctness  of  outline,  which 
added  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  scene.  All  was  silent  as 
the  grave,  save  the  muffled  and  almost  synchronous  tread  of 
the  thousands  of  feet  in  the  soft  road,  and  the  low  clatter  or 
jingle  of  accoutrements. 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 69 

There  was  a  sudden  outburst  in  the  rear  of  tumultuous 
shoutings,  which  rapidly  swept  toward  us,  and  very  soon 
General  Lee,  with  a  full  staff,  galloped  to  the  front,  passing 
between  us  and  the  Light  Division,  which,  however,  had 
now  halted  and  stacked  arms  across  the  road  from  our  guns. 
I  cannot  recall  a  moment  of  higher  enthusiasm  during  the 
four  years  of  the  war.  The  troops  were  transported  with 
the  wildest  excitement  and  the  General  also  appeared  to  be 
unusually  impressed.  I  cannot  say  that  it  was  his  habit, 
but  I  distinctly  remember  that  on  this  occasion  he  lifted  his 
hat,  taking  it  by  the  crown  with  his  right  hand  and  holding 
it  suspended  above  his  majestic  head  as  far  as  we  could  see 
him.  I  remember,  too,  how  the  men  greeted  him,  shouting, 
"What  a  head,  what  a  head !  See  that  glorious  head !  God 
bless  it,  God  bless  it!" 

In  a  short  time  the  Light  Division  got  under  way  again, 
resuming  its  swaying,  swinging,  panther-like  step,  others 
of  Jackson's  command  following  them.  When  the  last  of  his 
troops  had  passed,  we  resumed  our  march  and  continued 
it  until  we  finally  reached  the  position  assigned  us,  with 
McLaws'  division,  which  formed  a  part  of  the  thin  Con- 
federate line  covering  Hooker's  front,  and  a  most  peculiar 
position  it  was.  It  was  an  old  house  site  in  a  small  clear- 
ing, but  the  main  building  had  been  burned  or  destroyed, 
apparently  years  ago,  while  one  or  two  outbuildings  were 
standing.  Our  guns  came  into  battery  in  an  old  pansy 
bed,  which  before  we  left  was  spattered  with  splotches  of 
intenser  color.  We  could  see  absolutely  nothing  of  the 
enemy,  nor  of  any  other  part  of  our  own  lines;  indeed  the 
entire  region  was  a  gloomy  thicket  and  our  infantry  line  so 
stretched  and  attenuated  that  the  men  were  scarcely  in  sight 
even  of  each  other.  It  was  currently,  and  I  have  every  rea- 
son to  believe  correctly,  reported,  that  in  inspecting  the  line 
of  his  division,  General  McLaws  found  one  of  his  brigades 
actually  faced  to  the  rear. 

Although  the  enemy  was  not  in  sight  from  our  position, 
nor  we  from  theirs,  yet  we  interchanged  occasionally  a  con- 
siderable fire,  which  resulted  on  our  side  in  a  few  sad  and 
ghastly  casualties ;  but  we  have  already  spoken  of  these  and 


I70  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

may  speak  of  them  again  in  another  connection.  For  the 
present,  let  us  turn  to  something  of  a  less  painful  nature. 

There  were  two  little  dogs  in  the  battalion  which  afforded 
not  only  a  good  deal  of  amusement,  but  also  a  field  for 
some  interesting  observation  and  discrimination.  Both  were 
small,  the  Troupe  Artillery  dog,  the  larger  of  the  two, 
about  the  size  of  a  small  coon  without  a  tail,  which  he  in 
general  resembled.  He  was  dark,  stone  gray  on  his  back, 
inclining  (somewhat  more  than  a  coon)  to  tan  or  fawn  color 
underneath.  He  had  also  rough,  coarse  hair;  short,  stout 
legs,  and,  as  implied,  little  or  no  tail.  He  had  entered  the 
service  early,  joining  the  battery  during  the  unfortunate 
campaign  in  Western  Virginia,  and  was  named  after  the 
commanding  general,  "Robert  Lee."  He  was  very  plucky 
in  a  personal  difficulty,  but  I  blush  to  say,  an  abject  coward 
in  battle.  The  Howitzer  dog,  whom  we  christened  "Stone- 
wall Jackson,"  came  to  us  a  mere  puppy  in  the  summer  of 
1862,  after  the  battles  around  Richmond,  and  while  we  were 
waiting  for  the  re-equipment  of  the  battery.  He  was  a  Welsh 
fice,  very  small,  but  beautifully  formed,  gleaming  white  in 
color,  with  a  few  spots  of  jet  black,  his  hair  fine  and  short, 
and  lying  close  and  smooth.  He  did  not  carry  guns  enough, 
metaphorically  speaking,  to  amount  to  much  in  a  canine  en- 
counter, but  he  was  a  born  warrior,  a  perfect  hero  in  battle. 
When  our  guns  were  in  action  he  was  always  careering 
wildly  about  them,  and  in  any  pause  of  their  hoarse  thunders 
the  shrill  treble  of  his  tiny  bark  was  always  to  be  heard. 

In  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  while  we  were  occupy- 
ing the  position  above  described,  I  had  occasion  to  go  down 
the  little  declivity  in  rear  of  the  gun  to  the  caissons.  I  had  just 
left  the  battery  firing  actively  and  Stonewall  even  more  than 
usually  excited,  when  my  eye  chanced  to  light  upon  poor 
little  Bob  Lee  sneaking  to  the  rear,  in  fright  absolutely  pitia- 
ble. It  may  serve  as  an  excuse  for  him  that  he  had  gotten 
separated  from  his  company,  which  had  been  left  behind  at 
Fredericksburg  with  Early.  To  my  astonishment,  he  made 
for  a  large  tree,  back  of  which  and  as  close  in  and  under  as 
possible  he  crept,  and  crouched  and  squatted,  very  much  as 
a  demoralized  man  might  have  done.     The  action  and  the 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  171 

purpose  were  unmistakable.  I  do  not  know  that  I  could 
have  believed  it  if  I  had  not  seen  it  with  my  own  eyes,  but 
there  was  no  room  for  doubt.  One  might  not  feel  gener- 
ously and  sympathetically  inclined  toward  a  man  under  such 
circumstances,  but  it  is  pleasant  to  be  able  to  say  that  little 
Bob's  prudent  precautions  accomplished  their  object.  As 
I  have  always  understood,  he  passed  safely  through  the  war 
and  followed  the  men  of  his  battery  to  Georgia. 

Stonewall  was  a  remarkable  little  animal.  It  was  sur- 
prising that  he  was  not  lost  or  killed  in  action,  especially 
when  we  had  to  change  our  position  rapidly  under  fire, 
which  was  very  often.  Under  such  circumstances,  whoever 
happened  to  be  nearest  the  little  fellow,  if  by  a  frantic  dive 
he  could  manage  to  get  him  in  time,  would  lift  the  lid  of  a 
limber  chest,  drop  him  in  an  empty  partition,  and  clap  the 
lid  down  again  before  the  gun  dashed  off  with  the  rest ;  but 
as  soon  as  it  came  into  battery  in  the  new  position,  No.  6, 
before  getting  at  his  fuses,  would  first  lift  the  little  warrior 
from  his  dark,  close  quarters  and  drop  him  on  the  ground, 
where,  in  a  twinkling,  he  would  recover  his  balance,  resume 
his  part  in  the  fight  and  keep  it  up  until,  in  another  move,  he 
was  again  imprisoned  in  transitu,  either  in  an  ammunition 
chest  or  under  someone's  arm. 

He  was  an  intelligent,  companionable  little  chap,  and  the 
boys  taught  him  some  uncommon  tricks.  His  special  mas- 
ter, teacher,  patron  and  friend  was  dear  old  "Van," — chief 
of  the  second  detachment, — who  could  do  anything  from 
shoeing  a  horse  to  making  a  clock  out  of  pine  bark,  and 
must  of  necessity  be  always  doing  something,  even  if  it 
were  but  training  a  puppy.  Van  taught  Stonewall  to  at- 
tend roll-call,  and  to  sit  up  on  his  haunches,  next  to  him,  on 
the  advanced  rank  of  non-commissioned  officers,  and  he 
made  a  little  pipe  for  him,  which  Stonewall  would  hold 
firmly  in  his  mouth  when  Van  had  once  inserted  it  between 
his  teeth.  Then  when  the  orderly  sergeant,  before  beginning 
the  roll,  called  "Pipes  out !"  Van  would  stoop  and  slip  Stone- 
wall's pipe  from  his  mouth  to  his  left  paw,  which  would  then 
instantly  drop  to  his  side  with  the  other,  and  the  little  cor- 
poral would  stand,  or  sit,  stiffly  and  staunchly  in  the  position 
of  a  soldier,  eyes  front,  until  the  company  was  dismissed. 


172  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Stonewall  was  stolen  from  us  several  times  by  Harry 
Hayes'  brigade,  his  Louisiana  Creoles  having  the  ungovern- 
able passion  of  the  French  soldier  for  pets.  At  last  the 
cunning  thieves  succeeded  in  hiding  him,  and  we  lost  him 
finally,  to  the  deep  regret,  not  to  say  grief,  of  every  man  in 
the  battery. 

After  fighting  for  some  hours  in  a  very  indecisive  and 
unsatisfactory  fashion,  in  the  unsatisfactory  position  above 
described,  two  of  our  pieces,  my  gun  one  of  them,  were  ad- 
vanced by  a  neighborhood  road,  several  hundred  yards  to 
the  right  and  front  and  to  the  top  of  a  hill  from  which  we 
could  see  the  entire  formation  of  the  Federal  lines  about 
Chancellorsville.  Who  discovered  this  position  I  never 
knew,  but  it  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable,  perhaps  the 
most  remarkable,  I  ever  saw.  It  was  on  the  left  flank  and 
rear  of  the  Federal  lines  about  Chancellorsville  house,  and 
not  more  than  a  thousand  or  twelve  hundred  yards  distant 
from  our  guns.  The  Federal  artillery  was  as  regularly  and 
accurately  stationed  as  if  on  parade  or  at  drill — guns  in  front 
and  in  action,  the  motions  of  the  cannoneers  at  the  manual 
of  the  piece  being  distinctly  recognizable,  except  when  the 
smoke  of  the  successive  discharges  momentarily  shut  them 
off;  limbers  the  required  distance  in  rear  of  guns,  caissons 
in  rear  of  limbers,  drivers  sitting  bolt  upright  on  their 
horses,  and  three  heavy,  black  lines  of  infantry  lying  down 
back  of  the  artillery. 

I  never  before  felt  such  a  rising  of  my  heart  into  my 
throat  as  I  did  while  lying  just  behind  the  crest  of  the  ridge, 
gazing  intently  upon  this  scene  and  aiding  the  gunners  of 
the  two  pieces  in  making  careful  estimate  of  the  distance. 
We  were  unwilling  to  waste  a  shot,  knowing  that,  in  the 
very  nature  of  things,  such  an  opportunity  would  not  be 
long  vouchsafed  us.  In  the  pauses  or  subsidences  of  the 
cannonade  we  could  hear  the  clear,  high-pitched,  thrilling, 
dauntless  yell  of  our  charging  infantry,  and  we  felt  what 
our  fire,  if  well  directed,  might  mean  to  those  gallant  fel- 
lows. We  had  already  unlimbered  and  moved  the  guns 
forward  by  hand,  so  that  their  muzzles  just  failed  to  pro- 
ject over  the  brow  of  the  hill.    We  went  back  to  the  limbers, 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 7  3 

took  out  two  shells  and  cut  the  fuses  accurately  in  accord- 
ance with  our  estimate  of  the  distance,  loaded  and  ran  both 
pieces  forward  again  until  they  just  cleared  the  crest  of  the 
ridge;  then,  running  down  the  screws  and  elevating  the 
muzzles  appropriately  to  the  distance,  every  man  in  the  de- 
tachment fell  into  place,  the  primers  were  inserted  in  the 
vents  and  both  lanyards  pulled  simultaneously.  The  ear 
detected  but  one  discharge,  and  the  two  shells  flew  scream- 
ing and  bursting  together  in  the  very  midst  of  the  mass  of 
Federal  artillery,  exploding  certainly  one,  and,  as  it  seemed, 
two,  ammunition  chests  or  caissons. 

The  blow  was  utterly  unexpected,  the  effect  overwhelm- 
ing, and  we  gave  them  no  time  to  recover,  but  kept  throwing 
in  shell  as  rapidly  as  the  guns  could  be  loaded  and  discharg- 
ed, until  the  entire  hillside  seemed  to  be  cleared  for  the  time 
of  both  artillery  and  infantry.  Suddenly  we  heard  the  regu- 
lar huzzas  of  Federal  infantry  very  close  to  us,  apparently 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  we  stood,  but  concealed  by 
the  scrub  forest.  No  pickets  had  been  thrown  out  in  our 
front  so  far  as  we  knew ;  there  was  no  infantry  support  with 
us ;  minie  balls  began  to  drop  in  very  briskly ;  the  hillside  we 
had  cleared  filled  up  again,  and  it  was  deemed  prudent  for  us 
to  retire. 

Strange  it  is,  but  I  have  not  the  slightest  recollection  as 
to  what  artillery  officer  was  in  charge  of  us,  but  I  do  remem- 
ber that  in  retiring  to  our  former  position  we  passed  very 
close  to  Gen.  Lafayette  McLaws,  commanding  the  division 
to  which  generally,  as  on  this  occasion,  we  were  attached.  I 
was  more  deeply  stirred  than  I  had  ever  before  been,  and  have 
some  indistinct  recollection  of  urging  one  or  two  of  our  ar- 
tillery officers  that  the  eight  guns  we  had  with  us  should  be 
advanced  to  the  position  our  two  guns  had  just  left,  accom- 
panied by  infantry  support. 

The  suggestion  was  not  approved  by  them,  and  I  went  to 
General  McLaws  with  it.  He  received  me  without  the 
slightest  reproof  for  my  impertinence,  but  said  we  had  done 
our  work  with  two  rifles,  and  that  from  what  he  knew  of  the 
ground  the  distance  must  be  too  great  for  smooth-bore 
guns.     I  assured  him  that  he  was  misinformed,  and  that  I 


174  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

knew  what  I  was  talking  about,  as  I  had  helped  to  estimate 
the  distance  and  cut  the  fuses.  I  do  not  now  exactly  recall 
what  the  distance  was,  but  I  am  positive  now,  as  I  was 
then,  that  it  was  within  range  of  our  shortest-ranged  guns, 
and  I  insisted  that  with  our  eight  guns  in  action  on  that  hill 
(the  other  eight  had  been  left  at  Fredericksburg  with  Early) 
we  could  fairly  blow  up  Chancellorsville.  While  I  was  say- 
ing this  Major  Goggin,  adjutant-general  of  the  division,  and 
a  fine  soldier,  rode  up  and  confirmed  all  I  had  said.  I  have 
an  indistinct  recollection  that  we  boosted  the  general,  who 
was  short  and  stout,  to  the  top  of  an  old  tobacco  barn,  but 
his  view  was  very  little  extended  even  from  that  vantage 
ground.  Nevertheless,  he  came  to  our  opinion  and  sent  the 
order  for  all  our  eight  guns  to  advance  to  the  position  in- 
dicated, supported  by  Semmes'  brigade. 

I  was  almost  delirious  with  joy,  and  ran  back  to  the  guns, 
anticipating  a  scene  of  destruction  and  of  triumph  such  as 
no  one  of  us  had  ever  before  witnessed.  But  just  as  the  two 
batteries  were  drawn  out  in  column  on  the  road  we  learned 
that  our  troops  had  carried  the  enemy's  works,  that  he  had 
abandoned  the  position  we  were  to  have  shelled,  and  our  op- 
portunity was  gone.  Semmes,  however,  went  right  on,  and 
by  a  skilful  movement  and  a  short,  sharp  fight,  cut  off  and 
captured  a  Federal  force  which  seemed  to  have  been  sent  for- 
ward with  the  view  of  capturing  our  two  rifled  guns.  A  lit- 
tle later  he  marched  his  prisoners  into  the  clearing  we  had 
occupied,  and  it  turned  out  that  he  had  an  entire  regiment, 
I  think  of  "hundred-day  men,"  from  New  Haven,  Conn. 

General  Lee,  convinced  that  there  was,  for  the  present  at 
least,  no  more  dangerous  fight  in  Hooker,  had  ridden 
through  to  General  McLaws'  position  to  talk  with  him 
about  turning  back  to  help  Early  take  care  of  Sedgwick.  He 
and  McLaws  were  conferring,  I  think,  at  the  moment  on 
horseback.  My  enthusiasm  had  spent  itself,  or  rather  had 
oozed  out  with  our  disappointment,  and  I  was  walking  down 
the  front  of  the  captured  regiment,  kept,  however,  at  proper 
distance  by  the  guard  which  had  been  placed  over  them.  I 
had  heard  where  the  prisoners  hailed  from  and  was  carefully 
scanning  their  faces,  recognizing  many  of  them.     At  last  a 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 75 

little  fellow  who  had  been  in  my  Sunday-school  class  in 
New  Haven  recognized  me.  How  he  happened  to  do  this 
is  a  mystery,  as  there  was  not  a  trace  of  my  former  self 
visible,  except  my  height  and  my  muscular  figure.  I  had 
lost  my  hat,  my  hair  was  close-shingled,  skin  tanned  red 
brown;  I  had  on  only  flannel  shirt,  pants,  belt  and  shoes; 
shirt  front  wide  open,  sleeves  rolled  up,  clothes  and  skin 
spattered  black  with  powder  water  from  the  sponge — in- 
deed I  was,  all  in  all,  about  as  desperate-looking  a  ruffian  as 
could  well  be  found  or  imagined.  But  when  this  little  chap, 
through  all  this  disguise  and  transformation,  recognized 
me  and  called  out  my  name,  there  was  a  simultaneous  shout 
of  "Bob  Stiles"  from  many  throats.  General  Lee  called  me 
to  him  and  asked  whether  I  really  knew  "those  people," — 
the  peculiar  phrase  which  he  employed  habitually  in  speaking 
of  the  Northern  people  or  the  Federal  soldiery, — and  upon 
my  telling  him  that  I  did,  he  ordered  the  guard  to  pass  me 
in  the  lines,  telling  me  to  find  out  what  I  could  and  let  him 
know.  He  also  offered  to  do  anything  in  his  power  for  any 
prisoner  whose  circumstances  I  might  think  required  his  in- 
tervention, and  in  this  way  I  arranged  a  special  exchange  for 
a  young  man  named  Sheldon,  whom  I  had  known  at  Yale  or 
at  a  preparatory  school  in  New  Haven.  I  also  gathered  con- 
siderable information,  which  I  gave  to  the  commanding  gen- 
eral. 

A  short  time  after  this,  I  cannot  say  exactly  how  long, 
but  that  same  evening  and  before  we  started  back  after 
Sedgwick,  General  McLaws  called  me  to  him  and  said  I 
ought  not  to  be  in  the  ranks;  that  I  was  right  about  that 
movement  of  all  our  guns  to  that  advanced  position,  and 
this  showed  I  had  a  gift  for  handling  artillery;  that  he 
would  send  for  a  commission  as  captain  and  have  me  as- 
signed to  the  command  of  a  certain  Georgia  battery  which 
he  mentioned;  that  it  was  true  this  battery  had  a  way  of 
getting  its  captains  killed  and  wounded,  but  that  bad  luck 
like  that  didn't  last  forever,  and  that  it  was  time  the  luck 
was  turning  with  this  battery.  I  thanked  him  heartily,  but 
told  him  that  I  had  not  discovered  the  commanding  position 
he  referred  to  and  didn't  know  who  was  entitled  to  the  credit 


176  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

of  pointing  it  out ;  that  I  had  simply  reported  what  we  had 
seen  and  done — other  men  no  less  than  I ;  that  as  to  the  bat- 
tery he  had  mentioned,  while  I  thought  I  could  sincerely 
say  that  the  fate  of  its  former  captains  would  not  deter 
me,  yet  I  presumed  there  were  officers  in  this  battery  who 
deserved  and  would  expect  promotion,  and  if  so  I  would  not 
be  willing  to  cut  them  out  of  their  proper  dues ;  and  besides, 
1  much  questioned  whether  I  was  really  competent  to  be  put 
at  once  in  command  of  a  battery  in  the  field.  He  seemed  to 
be  a  little  disappointed  at  what  he  evidently  thought  my  lack 
of  proper  ambition,  but  said  he  would  talk  with  me  further 
about  it,  and  I  left  him,  making  a  great  effort  not  to  show 
how  profoundly  moved  I  was.  Here,  for  the  third  time 
within  a  week,  was  promotion  offered  and  a  door  opened  be- 
fore me ;  for  while  I  had  returned  the  commission  in  the  en- 
gineer troops,  yet  I  could  not  be  sure  it  was  not  intended  for 
me,  especially  as  it  began  to  appear  as  if  there  was  a  general 
consensus  that  I  should  be  promoted. 

Shortly  after  I  left  General  McLaws,  he  and  General 
Lee  resumed  their  conference,  and,  just  as  they  did  so,  there 
occurred  an  incident  which  beautifully  revealed  the  equipoise 
of  General  Lee's  character  and  the  charm  of  his  manner. 

If  any  of  the  minor  characters  mentioned  in  these  remin- 
iscences has  a  distinct  personality  every  way  worthy  of  ap- 
proval and  of  remembrance,  it  is  "Brother  William,"  the 
consecrated,  courageous  chaplain  of  the  Seventeenth  Missis- 
sippi, or  rather  of  Barksdale's  brigade — the  real  hero  of  the 
great  revival  at  Fredericksburg.  He,  of  course,  had  re- 
mained behind  there,  with  his  brigade,  under  the  general 
command  of  Early,  to  watch  Sedgwick. 

I  was  standing  in  the  shade  of  a  tree,  near  our  guns,  which 
had  been  ordered  to  draw  out  on  the  road,  head  of  column 
to  the  rear,  that  is,  toward  Fredericksburg, — an  order  and 
movement  which  we  all  well  understood, — when  my  atten- 
tion was  called  to  a  horseman  coming  at  full  speed  from 
the  direction  in  which  we  were  heading,  and  as  he  drew 
near  I  saw  it  was  "Brother  William,"  and  that  he  was 
greatly  excited.  My  recollection  is  that  he  did  not  have  a 
saddle,  but  was  riding  upon  a  blanket  or  cloth  of  some 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 77 

kind,  and  that  his  horse  was  reeking  with  sweat  and  panting 
from  exertion.  When  his  eye  fell  upon  General  Lee  he 
made  directly  for  him,  and  I  followed  as  fast  as  I  could. 
He  dashed  to  the  very  feet  of  the  commanding  general,  in- 
deed, almost  upon  him,  and  gasping  for  breath,  his  eyes 
starting  from  their  sockets,  began  to  tell  of  dire  disaster  at 
Fredericksburg — Sedgwick  had  smashed  Early  and  was 
rapidly  coming  on  in  our  rear. 

I  have  never  seen  anything  more  majestically  calm  than 
General  Lee  was ;  I  felt  painfully  the  contrast  between  him 
and  dear  little  Brother  William.  Something  very  like  a 
grave,  sweet  smile  began  to  express  itself  on  the  General's 
face,  but  he  checked  it,  and  raising  his  left  hand  gently,  as 
if  to  protect  himself,  he  interrupted  the  excited  speaker, 
checking  and  controlling  him  instantly,  at  the  same  time  say- 
ing very  quietly : 

"I  thank  you  very  much,  but  both  you  and  your  horse 
are  fatigued  and  overheated.  Take  him  to  that  shady  tree 
yonder  and  you  and  he  blow  and  rest  a  little.  I'm  talking  to 
General  McLaws  just  now.  I'll  call  you  as  soon  as  we  are 
through." 

I  said  Brother  William  was  at  once  dominated  and  con- 
trolled, and  he  was — but  not  quite  satisfied.  He  began  a 
mild  protest :  "But,  General !"  but  he  did  not  persist  in  it — 
he  simply  could  not.  He  had  already  dismounted,  and  he 
started  back  with  me  to  the  tree,  leading  his  horse. 

Unfortunately,  I  had  none  of  General  Lee's  power  over 
him,  and  he  began  to  pour  out  to  me  his  recital  of  disaster 
and  prediction  of  ruin.  All  was  lost  below,  Sedgwick  had 
stormed  the  heights  and  seized  the  town,  the  brigade  had 
been  cut  off,  and,  he  feared,  captured ;  Early  had  been  beaten 
and  pushed  roughly  aside,  and  at  least  30,000  victorious 
troops  were  rapidly  pressing  on  in  our  rear.  Substantially, 
he  alone  was  left  to  tell  the  tale,  and  had  fortunately  been 
able  to  secure  this  horse  on  which  to  come  to  tell  it.  If  not 
already  too  late,  it  very  soon  would  be,  to  do  anything  even 
to  moderate  the  calamity. 

In  vain  I  suggested  that  General  Lee  could  not  be  ignorant 
of  all  this ;  that  his  scouts  had,  doubtless,  given  him  informa- 


178  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

tion;  that  General  Early  certainly  would  have  found  means 
to  communicate  with  him ;  that  Lee  had  beaten  Hooker  and 
his  calm  and  self-reliant  bearing  clearly  indicated  that  he  felt 
himself  to  be  master  of  the  entire  situation.  But  Brother 
William  would  not  be  comforted  or  reassured.  General  Lee 
had  not  been  upon  the  spot  and  could  not  know ;  he  had  been 
and  did  know.  The  very  calmness  of  the  general  showed 
he  did  not  appreciate  the  gravity  of  the  situation.  While 
we  were  thus  debating  the  matter,  General  Lee  finished  with 
McLaws,  who  at  once  started  his  division  on  the  back  track 
to  reinforce  Early  and  help  him  take  care  of  Sedgwick — and, 
true  to  his  promise,  Marse  Robert  now  called  for  Brother 
William,  and,  as  he  approached,  greeted  him  with  a  smile, 
saying : 

"Now  what  were  you  telling  us  about  Major  Sedgwick?" 

Brother  William  again  told  his  tale  of  woe — this  time 
with  somewhat  diminished  intensity  and  less  lurid  coloring. 
When  he  had  finished  the  general  thanked  him,  saying  again : 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you;  the  major  is  a  nice 
gentleman;  I  don't  think  he  would  hurt  us  very  badly,  but 
we  are  going  to  see  about  him  at  once.  I  have  just  sent 
General  McLaws  to  make  a  special  call  upon  him." 

I  did  not,  at  the  time,  quite  appreciate  the  marked  pecu- 
liarity of  General  Lee's  allusion  to  Sedgwick,  but,  as  I  now 
understand,  the  latter  had  been  a  major  in  the  old  service,  of 
the  regiment  of  which  Lee  was  colonel,  and  they  had  been 
somewhat  intimate  friends. 

There  is  a  decided  difference  of  opinion,  and  that  among 
both  Federal  and  Confederate  authorities,  as  to  whether  or 
not  Sedgwick  heartily  and  vigorously  supported  and  co- 
operated with  Hooker's  plans  in  this  campaign.  Both 
Hooker  and  Warren  reflect  seriously  upon  him  for  failure 
to  do  so,  and  Early  and  Fitzhugh  Lee,  on  the  Confederate 
side,  take  a  like  view.  The  two  latter  estimate  Sedgwick's 
force  at  thirty  thousand  troops,  while  Early  had  only  some 
ten  thousand  to  oppose  him.  Fitz  says  in  substance  that 
Sedgwick's  attacks  were  desultory,  nerveless,  and  easily 
repulsed,  even  by  our  very  inferior  force,  until  the  extreme 
weakness  of  our  lines  was  discovered  under  flag  of  truce 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  1 79 

granted  him  to  take  care  of  his  wounded.  Then  he  attacked 
with  more  determination  and  captured  Marye's  Heights 
and  several  pieces  of  artillery,  but  even  then  did  not  push 
his  advantage  with  vigor.  Barksdale  seems  to  have  been 
for  the  time  separated  from  Early,  and  it  was  at  this  junc- 
ture that  Mr.  Owen  procured  the  horse  and  galloped  to 
Chancellorsville  with  his  blood-curdling  tale  of  disaster.  A 
staff  officer  of  General  Early  had,  however,  preceded  him, 
as  we  afterwards  learned. 

It  was  currently  reported  at  the  time  that  the  whole  of 
the  Mississippi  brigade  would  have  been  captured,  as  part 
of  it  was,  had  not  the  giant  musketeer  of  the  Twenty-first 
Regiment  clubbed  his  gun  and  rushed  bare-headed  down  the 
hill  upon  the  Federal  troops  who  were  climbing  it.  At  this 
fearful  apparition  they  broke  and  ran,  and  in  the  gap  and 
confusion  thus  occasioned  a  large  part  of  the  brigade  made 
its  escape. 

After  McLaws  joined  forces  with  Early,  Sedgwick, 
though  still  outnumbering  his  foes,  became  the  hunted  rather 
than  the  hunter,  and  seems  to  have  counted  himself  happy, 
under  cover  of  the  friendly  darkness,  to  make  his  escape 
across  the  river. 

It  is  fair  to  say  that  some  military  critics  take  a  different 
view  of  Sedgwick's  operations,  and  it  may  well  be,  after  all, 
that  Hooker's  lieutenant  has  suffered  in  general  estimation 
mainly  by  reason  of  his  being  brought,  under  the  circum- 
stances, into  comparison  with  Lee's  matchless  second  and 
his  absolutely  perfect  appreciation,  support,  and  execution 
of  the  plans  of  his  great  chief  in  this  the  most  brilliant  of 
his  battles. 

Hooker's  own  part  in  these  operations  would  seem  to  have 
been  more  creditable,  but  his  great  weakness  was  a  tendency 
to  boasting.  There  was  a  striking  contrast  between  the 
records  he  made  for  himself  in  his  order  book  and  in  the 
field.  When,  on  the  26th  of  January,  1863,  he  took  com- 
mand of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  his  first  act  was  to 
christen  it  in  the  memorable,  high-sounding  phrase — "The 
Finest  Army  on  the  Planet."  On  the  same  day,  in  General 
Order  No.  1,  he  emphasized  the  inferiority  of  its  enemy,  and 


l8o  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

added :  "Let  us  never  hesitate  to  give  him  battle  whenever 
we  can  find  him."  After  just  three  months  of  waiting  he 
did  find  him,  right  across  the  river  where  he  had  all  the  time 
been,  and  moved  upon  him.  Then,  after  three  days  of  really- 
skilful  maneuvering,  on  the  30th  of  April,  as  he  took  up  his 
position  at  Chancellorsville,  he  issued  his  General  Order  No. 
47,  congratulating  his  army  that  now,  "Our  enemy  must 
ingloriously  fly,  or  come  out  from  behind  his  defenses  and 
give  us  battle  on  our  own  ground,  where  certain  destruc- 
tion awaits  him."  The  rash  enemy  chose  the  latter  alterna- 
tive, but  objected  strongly  to  the  predicted  result  of  "certain 
destruction."  And  lastly,  on  the  6th  day  of  May,  after  he 
had  abandoned  his  famous  and  almost  impregnable  position, 
and  retired  across  the  river  in  the  dark,  as  Sedgwick  had  al- 
ready done,  he  published  his  General  Order  No.  49,  of  which 
he  asked,  but  apparently  never  got,  President  Lincoln's  opin- 
ion— in  which  "The  Major-General  Commanding  tenders  to 
the  army  his  congratulations  on  its  achievements  of  the  last 
seven  days  *  *  *,"  and  adds :  "The  events  of  the  last 
week  may  swell  with  pride  the  heart  of  every  officer  and  sol- 
dier in  this  army;" 

All  these,  however,  are  but  the  blasts  of  the  war  trumpet, 
and  are  calculated  to  blind  us  to  the  admirable  character 
of  Hooker's  general  plan  and  his  creditable  maneuvers  in 
the  attempted  execution  of  it.  In  parting  with  him  I  can- 
not refrain  from  saying  that  no  soldier  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  can  fail  to  kindle  toward  him,  at  least  a 
little,  upon  reading  his  testimony  before  the  Committee  on 
the  Conduct  of  the  War,  in  which  he  gives  the  following 
curious  and  tortuous,  yet,  upon  the  whole,  manly  explana- 
tion of  the  defeat  and  failure  of  "The  Finest  Army  on  the 
Planet:" 

Our  artillery  had  always  been  superior  to  that  of  the  rebels,  as  was 
also  our  infantry,  except  in  discipline;  and  that,  for  reasons  not  neces- 
sary to  mention,  never  did  equal  Lee's  army.  With  a  rank  and  file  vastly 
inferior  to  our  own,  intellectually  and  physically,  that  army  has,  by  dis- 
cipline alone,  acquired  a  character  for  steadiness  and  efficiency  unsur- 
passed, in  my  judgment,  in  ancient  or  modern  times.  We  have  not  been 
able  to  rival  it,  nor  has  there  been  any  near  approximation  to  it  in  the 
other  rebel  armies. 


CHANCELLORSVILLE  Iol 

It  is  strange  that  I  cannot  recall  when  I  first  heard  of 
Jackson's  being  wounded,  nor  even  of  the  overwhelming  ca- 
lamity of  his  death.  There  is  an  impression  on  my  mind  that 
I  saw  his  body  lying  in  state  in  the  Capitol  at  Richmond; 
but  upon  reflection  I  am  inclined  to  think  this  is  an  error 
and  that  I  am  confounding  impressions  derived  from  reading 
the  detailed  accounts  in  the  daily  press  with  the  actual  sight 
of  the  eye.  The  only  reliable  data  I  have,  bearing  upon  the 
time  of  this  visit  to  Richmond,  is  Beers'  burial  there,  at 
which  I  certainly  was  present.  He  fell  on  the  3rd  of  May 
and  was  buried  on  the  field.  It  was  warm  weather  and  his 
re-interment  at  Richmond  could  not  have  been  many  days 
later.  Jackson  did  not  die  until  the  10th  of  May,  and  I 
could  not  have  witnessed  the  funeral  obsequies  in  Richmond 
unless  I  remained  there  longer  than  I  now  think  I  did. 

Under  these  circumstances,  there  being  nothing  of  value 
I  can  add  in  the  way  of  personal  reminiscence,  nothing 
would  be  gained  by  my  repeating  the  familiar  story  of  that 
week  of  fearful  suspense  or  the  heroic  recital  of  the  last  in- 
terchange of  confidence,  admiration,  and  affection  between 
the  great  leader  and  his  peerless  lieutenant.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  there  are  few  passages  in  human  story  as  lofty,  as  ten- 
der, or  in  every  way  as  creditable  to  human  nature.  The 
following  is  the  order  which  General  Lee  issued  to  his  army 
announcing  the  death  of  Jackson : 

HEADQUARTERS   ARMY   OF   NORTHERN    VIRGINIA. 

General  Order  No.  61. 

With  deep  regret  the  commanding  general  announces  the  death  of 
Lieutenant-General  T.  J.  Jackson,  who  expired  on  the  10th  instant,  at 
quarter  past  three  p.  m. 

The  daring,  skill,  and  energy  of  this  great  and  good  soldier,  by  the 
decree  of  an  All-wise  Providence,  are  now  lost  to  us.  But  while  we 
mourn  his  death,  we  feel  that  his  spirit  still  lives,  and  will  inspire  the 
whole  army  with  his  indomitable  courage  and  unshaken  confidence  in 
God  as  our  hope  and  strength.  Let  his  name  be  a  watch-word  to  his 
corps  who  have  followed  him  to  victory  on  so  many  fields.  Let  his 
officers  and  soldiers  emulate  his  invincible  determination  to  do  every- 
thing in  the  defense  of  our  loved  Country. 

R.  E.  Lee,  General 


l82 


FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 


Meanwhile  the  commission  in  engineer  troops  had  been  re- 
turned to  me,  accompanied  by  directions  to  report  at  Rich- 
mond for  orders.  This  seemed  to  settle  the  question.  Evi- 
dently I  could  not  wait  for  the  chance  of  the  reopening  of 
the  appointment  on  Jackson's  staff,  or  for  the  captaincy  in 
artillery  of  which  General  McLaws  had  spoken,  either  of 
which  I  should  have  greatly  preferred  to  the  engineer  ap- 
pointment. I  had  informed  the  Bureau  when  I  returned  the 
commission  that  I  was  not  an  engineer  and,  with  this  knowl- 
edge, the  appointment  had  been  confirmed.  Besides,  either 
before  or  when  I  reported  in  Richmond,  I  found  that  I  owed 
my  appointment  to  a  lady;  that  Mrs.  Gilmer,  the  wife  of 
General  Gilmer,  the  head  of  the  Engineer  Bureau  of  our 
service,  had  told  her  husband  that  she  wished  to  nominate 
one  officer  when  he  made  his  appointments  in  engineer 
troops,  and  had  nominated  me,  without  any  previous  per- 
sonal acquaintance,  basing  her  action  upon  what  she  had 
heard  of  me  from  others  and  particularly  from  my  father, 
and  out  of  regard  for  him. 

Under  these  circumstances,  to  decline  the  appointment 
was  out  of  the  question.  So  I  tore  myself  away  from  my 
dear  comrades,  my  own  brother  among  them,  and  reported 
at  Richmond  for  my  orders,  as  directed. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FROM   THE  RAPPAHANNOCK   TO   THE   POTOMAC 

The  Engineer  Troops — Jubal  Early — His  Ability  and  Devotion — His 
Caustic  Tongue — Lee  a  Master  of  the  "Offensive  Defensive" — His 
Army  Organized  into  Three  Corps — He  Turns  Northward  and 
Maneuvers  Hooker  Out  of  His  Position  on  the  Rappahannock — The 
Battle  of  Winchester — Fine  Work — Large  Captures — Scenes  and 
Incidents  of  the  Battle. 

It  is  singular  that  I  cannot  recall  with  distinctness  any- 
thing that  occurred  during  this  visit  to  Richmond,  save 
the  burial  of  poor  Beers ;  and  as  to  that  I  remember  only 
what  I  have  related.  I  do  not  recall  much  enthusiasm  or 
elation  of  spirit  about  my  promotion ;  indeed  I  felt  little,  for 
it  severed  the  strong  ties  that  bound  me  to  my  old  comrades ; 
it  removed  me  from  a  branch  of  the  service  which  I  loved 
and  in  which  I  felt  competent  to  do  efficient  work,  and  trans- 
ferred me  to  another  for  which  I  possessed  neither  taste  nor 
training. 

My  orders  were  to  report  to  Major-General  Early,  in  the 
field,  and  in  connection  with  the  other  officers  of  my  com- 
pany to  organize  a  company  of  engineer  troops  from  men 
to  be  furnished  us  from  his  division.  I  do  not  remember 
where  General  Early  was,  but  somewhere  in  the  northern 
or  central  portion  of  the  State,  and  I  reported  promptly  at 
his  headquarters,  meeting  there  for  the  first  time  Captain 
Williamson,  the  commanding  officer  of  our  prospective  com- 
pany, who  proved  to  be  a  gentleman  of  character,  a  compe- 
tent engineer  and  thorough  soldier,  though,  unfortunately, 
somewhat  deaf.  I  do  not  think  he  heard  all  that  was  said 
by  the  general  during  our  conference,  or  that  he  observed 
him  quite  as  closely  as  I  did. 

After  the  conference  was  over  I  saw  Captain  Williamson 
privately  and  asked  him  how  much  aid  and  co-operation  he 


184  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

expected  from  the  general  in  getting  up  his  company.  He 
said  he  hardly  knew,  and  asked  my  views,  which  were  quite 
decided  and  decidedly  expressed — to  the  effect  that  General 
Early  had  no  idea  of  losing  a  musket  from  his  division  if 
he  could  avoid  it ;  that  he  would  aid  us  just  so  far  as  he  was 
compelled  to  do  so  and  no  further;  that  our  orders  were 
somewhat  defective,  or  at  least  not  framed  to  meet  such  a 
case ;  that  I  did  not  mean  to  imply  that  the  general  was  not 
right  in  the  position  he  had  taken,  but  that  right  or  wrong  he 
had  clearly  taken  it;  and  as  he  was  evidently  a  man  of  un- 
common intelligence  and  determination,  I  felt  satisfied  he 
would  carry  his  point. 

In  the  course  of  two  or  three  days  the  situation  became 
clearly  defined,  the  general  taking  little  or  no  pains  to  con- 
ceal it,  and  I  had  another  talk  with  Captain  Williamson, 
who  felt  that  nothing  more  could  be  done  just  now  in  the 
way  of  organizing  the  company,  adding  that  General  Early 
had  asked  him,  for  the  present,  to  act  as  engineer  officer  on 
his  staff.  He  had  made  no  such  suggestion  or  request  in  my 
case,  and  Captain  Williamson  seemed  to  feel  badly  on  my  ac- 
count ;  but  I  begged  him  to  think  no  more  about  it,  assuring 
him  that  I  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  any  such  action  in 
my  case  was  out  of  the  question,  as  I  was  not  an  engineer. 
1  omitted  to  say  that  my  orders  entitled  me  to  a  horse  to 
be  furnished  and  fed,  as  I  remember,  by  the  quartermaster 
of  the  division,  and  the  general  was  very  kind  and  prompt 
in  seeing  that  these  requirements  were  complied  with ;  but  I 
saw  clearly  that  I  was  neither  needed  nor  desired  on  the 
division  staff  and  that,  if  I  remained,  the  best  I  could  ex- 
pect would  be  the  position  and  duty  of  a  sort  of  upper 
courier,  which  I  was  not  willing  to  assume. 

I  therefore  went  directly  to  General  Early  and  had  a  full 
talk  with  him.  I  did  most  of  the  talking,  but  he  heartily 
acquiesced,  and  when  I  was  through  I  felt  sure  we  thor- 
oughly understood  each  other,  and  I  thought  he  liked  me. 
I  told  him  I  saw  clearly  that,  for  the  present,  no  company 
of  engineer  troops  was  to  be  organized  from  his  division; 
that  indeed  I  rather  thought  the  division  pioneer  corps, 
under  command  of  Lieutenant,  or  Sergeant,  Flood,  was  all 


FROM  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK  TO  THE  POTOMAC         185 

the  engineer  company  he  cared  to  have.  Flood  was  a  New 
Orleans  stevedore,  a  rough  but  very  efficient  man,  who, 
among  his  many  admirable  qualifications,  possessed  this 
highly  acceptable  one,  that  he  had  no  sort  of  objection  to 
Old  Jube's  airing  his  choice  vocabulary  of  profane  rhetoric 
about  him,  or  his  work,  or  his  men  whenever  he  might 
happen  to  need  relief  in  that  direction. 

I  said  further  to  the  general  that  I  thought  the  pioneer 
corps  might  perhaps  be  regarded  as  the  nucleus  of  the  fu- 
ture company  of  engineer  troops,  and  while  I  had  no  idea  of 
meddling  with  Flood's  work,  which  he  was  vastly  better 
qualified  to  manage  than  I  was,  yet  I  could  help  him  about 
his  requisitions,  reports,  etc. ;  but  that  as  we  were  evidently 
going  into  an  active  and  aggressive  campaign  I  thought  I 
would,  in  action,  fight  in  some  battery  of  Col.  Hilary  Jones' 
Battalion,  if  he  thought  he  could  make  use  of  me — standing 
ready,  however,  at  all  times  to  report  back  to  Division 
Headquarters  for  staff  duty  or  for  anything  I  could  at  any 
time  do  for  the  general. 

This  arrangement  seemed  to  be  entirely  satisfactory  to 
General  Early,  as  it  was  also  to  Colonel  Jones,  in  one  or 
other  of  whose  batteries — usually  with  the  Charlottesville 
Artillery,  a  corps  that  reminded  me  somewhat  of  our  old 
battery — I  fought,  whenever  they  were  engaged,  throughout 
the  campaign,  notably  at  Winchester  and  Gettysburg; 
sometimes  in  charge  of  one  or  more  pieces,  and  again  fight- 
ing as  a  private  soldier  at  a  gun,  or  in  any  position  where 
they  were  weakest  and  most  needed  help.  I  said  the  ar- 
rangement seemed  to  be  entirely  satisfactory  to  General 
Early,  and  yet  in  connection  with  it  there  occurred  a  series 
of  awkward  and  amusing  incidents  which  admirably  illus- 
trate some  of  the  general's  strongly-marked  traits. 

Soon  after  Gettysburg  my  brother  and  I  passed  and  miss- 
ed each  other,  I  riding  over  to  the  First  Corps  to  learn  what 
had  befallen  my  friends  of  the  old  battery,  while  he  came 
over  to  Early's  division  of  the  Second  to  inquire  for  me. 
His  description  of  the  old  general  was  so  characteristic  and 
vivid  that  to  this  day  I  am  prone  to  imagine  that  I  saw  and 
heard  instead  of  my  brother.     He  said  the  sun  was  shining 


1 86  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

after  the  rain,  and  at  Early's  headquarters  he  saw  a  man 
rather  above  middle  age,  heavily  built,  with  stooping  shoul- 
ders, a  splendid  head  and  a  full  gray-brown  beard,  sitting 
in  his  shirt  sleeves  on  a  camp  stool,  with  one  leg  thrown 
over  the  other,  his  hands  and  apparently  his  every  thought 
employed  in  combing  out  and  smoothing  a  somewhat  be- 
draggled black  ostrich  feather.  My  brother  had  no  idea  who 
this  figure  was,  but  he  passed  beyond  him  to  inquire  of  some 
less  absorbed  person  as  to  my  welfare  and  whereabouts. 
The  person  addressed,  probably  some  courier,  did  not  hap- 
pen to  know  anything  of  me,  and  the  feather  dresser  piped  in 
a  whining,  querulous  voice : 

"Who  are  you  looking  for — Stiles  ?  I  can't  tell  you  where 
he  is,  but  I  can  tell  you  where  he  ain't.  He  ain't  with  the 
division  pioneer  corps,  where  he  belongs ;  I  reckon  your  best 
chance  to  find  him  would  be  lying  around  with  some  bat- 
tery." 

When  my  brother  told  me  this,  as  he  did  when  we  next 
met,  I  was  at  once  irritated  and  amused.  It  was  after  I  had, 
with  General  Early's  approval,  gone  back  to  the  old  battalion 
to  serve  as  its  adjutant,  under  Colonel  Cabell.  I  did  not  hap- 
pen to  meet  the  general  for  some  time,  and  meanwhile  for- 
tune had  smiled  upon  me  in  many  ways.  I  was  located  to 
my  entire  satisfaction,  had  a  fine  horse,  was  better  dressed 
and  equipped  every  way,  and  was  feeling  generally  satis- 
fied, independent,  and  happy.  We  had  gotten  back  to  the 
sacred  soil  of  Old  Virginia,  and,  under  Clark's  Mountain, 
riding  alone,  I  overtook  and  passed  the  general  accompanied 
by  only  a  single  courier.  My  horse  had  the  better  action 
and  movement,  and  I  merely  saluted  as  I  rode  rapidly  by. 
I  had  gotten  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  or  more  ahead,  when 
the  general  called  after  me : 

"Hold  on,  Stiles;"  and  as  he  drew  near,  "you're  a  little 
offish  this  morning." 

"No,  General,  I  think  not." 

"Well,  what  the  devil's  the  matter?" 

"Nothing  in  the  world,  sir,  except  that  I  didn't  suppose 
you'd  care  for  the  company  of  a  man  of  whom  the  best  you 
could  say  was  that  you  felt  sure  he  wasn't  where  he  ought 
to  be." 


prom  the  Rappahannock  to  the  potomac      187 

Old  Jube  cocked  his  head  and  cut  his  eyes  around  at  me 
with  an  expression  of  the  intensest  enjoyment,  and  in  that 
inimitable  voice  drawled  out : 

"Stiles,  you  are  an  infernal  fool.  Why,  man,  I  meant 
what  I  said  of  you  as  a  compliment.  The  main  use  I  had 
for  a  pioneer  corps  was  to  bury  dead  Yankees  and  horses, 
and  you  never  seemed  to  fancy  that  kind  of  business.  You 
preferred  to  take  a  hand  at  the  guns  and  prepare  'em  to  be 
buried,  and  I  thought  a  damned  sight  more  of  you  for  it." 

It  is  useless  to  say  that  this  sledge-hammer  stroke  broke 
the  ice;  indeed  the  ice  disappeared  and  I  was  thawed  out 
completely.  From  that  day  the  grand  old  fellow  was  one 
of  the  best  friends  I  had  in  the  army,  and  our  friendship 
continued  to  the  day  of  his  death.  I  don't  know  that  I 
was  ever  more  touched  than  when — long  years  afterwards, 
at  one  of  the  meetings  of  the  "Virginia  Division  of  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia,"  in  introducing  me  as  one  of  the 
speakers — he  told  this  story,  making  use  of  the  identical 
phraseology  above  recorded,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recall  it. 

It  may  be  well  to  say  that  a  full  regiment  of  engineer 
troops  was  ultimately  organized,  though  the  men  were  not 
drawn  from  the  troops  in  the  field,  as  at  first  provided — 
General  Lee  agreeing  with  his  division  generals  that  this 
should  not  be  done.  The  corps  rendered  very  efficient  serv- 
ice. It  was  under  the  command  of  Col.  T.  M.  R.  Talcott,  a 
member  of  General  Lee's  staff,  and  a  thoroughly  educated, 
experienced,  and  able  engineer,  in  whom  the  general  felt  as 
much  confidence  as  in  any  officer  of  his  rank  in  the  army. 
Strange  to  say,  I  never  served  a  day  with  the  regiment, 
though  holding  a  commission  in  it,  and  I  had  the  honor  of 
being,  for  a  year  or  more,  a  bone  of  contention  between  the 
engineer  troops  and  the  artillery.  Colonel  Talcott  would 
every  now  and  then  report  my  absence  from  duty  and  ask 
that  I  be  ordered  back  to  my  post  with  his  regiment,  and 
this  application  being  referred  to  Colonel  Cabell,  he  would 
answer  that  it  would  be  highly  detrimental  to  the  service  to 
remove  me,  just  at  this  time,  from  my  position  as  acting 
adjutant  of  his  battalion.  As  these  papers  had  to  pass 
through  army  headquarters,  and  in  some  instances  even  to 


l88  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

and  from  the  Adjutant-General's  Office  in  Richmond, 
months  would  sometimes  elapse  before  the  grand  rounds 
were  completed.  One  feature  of  the  case  very  aggravating 
to  the  officers  of  the  engineer  troops  was  that  on  one  occa- 
sion, I  presume  through  inadvertence,  I  was  actually  ad- 
vanced one  grade  in  engineer  troops  for  meritorious  serv- 
ice in  artillery.  At  last,  however,  I  was  again  promoted, 
this  time  in  artillery,  which  terminated  the  irritating,  yet 
amusing,  paper  war. 

Some  time  after  the  close  of  the  struggle,  at  a  social 
gathering  in  Richmond,  I  observed  a  gentleman  staring  and 
pointing  at  me  in  a  very  peculiar  manner,  who,  on  being  in- 
troduced, grasped  my  hand  and  burst  into  an  uncontrollable 
fir  of  laughter.  Upon  recovering  his  composure  he  said 
that  if  our  meeting  had  occurred  a  few  years  earlier  his  feel- 
ing, and  possibly  his  action,  might  have  been  different; 
that  he  was  one  of  the  officers  of  the  engineer  regiment 
over  whose  heads  I  had  unceremoniously  and  irregularly 
vaulted,  they  having  served  faithfully  with  the  regiment 
and  I  having  never  even  reported  to  it.  He  further  said 
that  my  name  had  been  repeatedly  read  out  at  dress  parade 
of  the  regiment  as  "absent  from  duty,"  when  the  officers 
would  speculate  as  to  how  soon  I  would  be  lassooed  and 
dragged  in ;  but  as  the  capture  was  constantly  delayed  and  I 
ultimately  made  good  my  escape,  my  fellow-officers  in  en- 
gineer troops  had  changed  their  minds  about  me  and  con- 
cluded I  was  a  strategist  of  a  high  order  and  deserving  of 
high  position  and  command.  I  may  add  that  my  personal 
relations  with  Colonel  Talcott  since  the  war  have  been  of  a 
close  and  intimate  character,  and  that  he  is  to-day  one  of 
my  best  friends. 

After  the  death  of  Jackson,  Early  was  undoubtedly  one 
of  the  strongest  and  ablest  of  Lee's  lieutenants.  He  was  not 
perhaps  the  brilliant  and  dashing  soldier  that  A.  P.  Hill  was, 
nor  a  superb,  magnetic  leader  like  Gordon,  and  possibly  he 
could  not  deliver  quite  as  majestic  a  blow  in  actual  battle 
as  Longstreet;  but  his  loyal  devotion,  his  hardy  courage, 
his  native  intellect,  his  mental  training,  his  sagacity,  his  re- 
source, his  self-reliant,  self-directing  strength,  were  all  very 


FROM  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK  TO  THE  POTOMAC         189 

great,  and  the  commanding  general  reposed  the  utmost 
confidence  in  him.  This  he  indicated  by  selecting  him  so 
frequently  for  independent  command,  and  to  fill  the  most 
critical,  difficult,  and  I  had  almost  said  hopeless,  positions, 
in  the  execution  of  his  own  great  plans;  as  for  example, 
when  he  left  him  at  Fredericksburg  with  nine  thousand  men 
to  neutralize  Sedgwick  with  thirty  thousand.  Later,  he  sent 
him  to  the  Valley,  with  a  very  inadequate  force,  to  occupy 
and  embarrass  the  enemy  and  to  prevent  overwhelming  con- 
centration against  the  Confederate  capital,  where  his  opera- 
tions indicated  the  highest  ability. 

Early  was  in  some  respects  a  bundle  of  inconsistencies  and 
contradictions;  of  religion  and  irreligion,  of  reverence  and 
profanity.  I  have  heard  my  father  speak  of  the  General's 
deep  interest  in  religious  work  among  the  men  of  his  divi- 
sion, and  his  readiness  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  fa- 
cilitate it.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  knew  one  human  soul  to 
look  up  to  another  with  a  feeling  nearer  akin  to  worship  than 
that  with  which  Early  regarded  Lee  and  Jackson,  not  alone 
as  great  soldiers,  but  as  great  Christians  also;  and  yet  he 
was  the  only  man  who  was  ever  known  to  swear  in  General 
Lee's  presence.  The  general  used  to  reprove  him  gently,  yet 
at  the  same  time  to  express  his  special  affection  for  him,  by 
calling  him  "My  bad  old  man." 

Old  Jube  struck  the  popular  fancy  in  two  respects  only — 
his  intense  unionism  before  President  Lincoln's  proclama- 
tion calling  for  troops  and  his  intense  Southernism  after- 
wards, and  his  caustic,  biting  tongue.  He  was  a  sort  of 
privileged  character  in  the  army  and  was  saucy  to  everybody, 
but  many  of  his  brightest  utterances  will  not  bear  publication 
because  of  the  sting  in  them.  One  of  this  general  character, 
which,  however,  had  no  real  bitterness  in  it,  is  too  good  not 
to  be  told. 

The  Hon.  Jere  Morton  was  in  the  Secession  Convention 
with  Early,  as  extreme  a  Secessionist  as  Early  was  Unionist, 
and  very  fond  of  talking  about  "our  rights  in  the  territories." 
Morton  was  not  in  the  army,  and  was  probably  above  fight- 
ing age.  His  handsome  estate,  "Morton  Hall,"  was  upon 
the  outskirts  of  the  great  battle-fields  of  Central  Virginia, 


I9O  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

and  on  one  occasion  Mr.  Morton  narrowly  escaped  capture 
there,  and  was  obliged  to  mount  a  horse  and  fly.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  Early  commanded  the  vanguard  of  the  Confed- 
erate forces  advancing  to  meet  the  enemy.  Riding  at  the 
head  of  his  column,  and  seeing  Morton  coming  in  hot  haste, 
digging  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  flanks,  Early  playfully 
threw  a  line  of  troops  across  the  road  to  intercept  his  prog- 
ress, at  the  same  time  calling  out  to  him,  "Hold  on,  Mor- 
ton!   Are  you  going  for  our  rights  in  the  Territories?" 

One  evening,  during  General  Jackson's  life-time,  after  a 
hard  day's  march,  General  Early  received,  soon  after  com- 
ing to  camp,  substantially  the  following  note : 

HEADQUARTERS  2d  CORPS,  A.   NO.  —  VA. 

To  Gen.  Jubal  A.  Early,  Commanding  Division : 

General — Gen.  Jackson's  compliments  to  Gen.  Early,  and  he  would 
like  to  be  informed  why  he  saw  so  many  stragglers  in  rear  of  your  divi- 
sion to-day. 

Respectfully, 

A.  G.  Pendleton,  A.  A.  G.  2d  Corps. 

To  which  Old  Jube  promptly  dictated  and  sent  the  follow- 
ing reply : 

HEADQUARTERS  EARLY'S  DIVISION,  A.  NO.  —  VA. 

To  Col.  A.  G.  Pendleton,  A.  A.  G.  2d  Corps: 

Colonel — General   Early's   compliments  to  General  Jackson,   and  he 
takes  pleasure  in  informing  him  that  he  saw  so  many  stragglers  in  rear 
of  my  division  to-day,  probably  because  he  rode  in  rear  of  my  division. 
Respectfully, 

Jubal  A.  Early,  Commanding  Division. 

There  was  not  another  officer  in  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  who  would  have  dared  to  send  such  an  imperti- 
nent note  to  Jackson,  nor  another,  save  Stuart,  whose  im- 
pertinence in  sending  it  would  have  been  met  with  a  laugh. 

After  the  war,  its  memories  were  Early's  religion ;  his 
mission,  to  vindicate  the  truth  of  history  with  regard  to  it. 
So  long  as  the  old  hero  was  alive  in  his  hill  city  of  Virginia, 


FROM   THE  RAPPAHANNOCK   TO   THE   POTOMAC         I9I 

no  man  ever  took  up  his  pen  to  write  a  line  about  the  great 
conflict  without  the  fear  of  Jubal  Early  before  his  eyes. 

As  already  stated,  it  is  not  within  the  scope  of  this  book 
to  discuss  the  causes  or  the  objects  of  the  war,  or  who  was 
responsible  for  it;  therefore,  when  I  say  that  upon  the  side 
of  the  Confederates  it  was  a  war  of  defense  I  am  enunciating 
a  military  and  not  a  moral  proposition.  I  mean  simply  that 
the  Confederacy  had  not  the  requisite  resources,  that  its 
leaders  had  no  purpose  or  expectation  of  carrying  on  a  war 
of  aggression  or  conquest,  and  that  our  invasions  of  North- 
ern soil  were  intended  merely  as  subsidiary  parts  of  our  gen- 
eral scheme  of  defense;  that  is,  as  diversions,  as  derange- 
ments of  the  general  scheme  of  Federal  invasion. 

General  Lee  was  a  soldier  who  thoroughly  appreciated  the 
value  of  an  offensive  defensive.  He  never  allowed  his  ad- 
versary quietly  to  mature  and  uninterruptedly  to  adhere  to 
and  carry  out  his  own  plan  of  campaign.  Although  con- 
ducting a  defensive  struggle,  he  was  yet  generally  the  attack- 
ing party.  It  was  so  in  the  Seven  Days'  battles  with  Mc- 
Clellan,  so  in  the  Manassas  campaign  with  Pope  and  the 
Maryland  campaign  that  followed.  It  was  so  at  Chancel- 
lorsville.  And  even  in  1864,  after  the  resources  and  fighting 
strength  of  the  Confederacy  had  been  so  fearfully  reduced, 
when  Grant  entered  the  Wilderness,  Lee  immediately  pressed 
in  after  him  and  closed  with  him  in  a  death  grapple  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  jungle. 

But  perhaps  the  most  perfect  instance  and  illustration  of 
this  characteristic  feature  of  Lee's  strategy  and  tactics,  and 
of  the  real  significance  of  his  two  invasions  of  Northern  ter- 
ritory, is  what  occurred  after  Chancellorsville.  When 
Hooker  retired  across  the  Rappahannock  and  reoccupied  his 
former  position  it  would  manifestly  have  been  little  short  of 
madness  for  Lee  to  attack  him  there,  especially  deprived  as 
he  was  of  Jackson,  his  offensive  right  arm;  yet  he  did  not 
sit  down,  as  a  less  courageous  and  resourceful  leader  would 
have  done,  gloating  over  his  victory,  conceding  the  initiative 
to  Hooker,  and  awaiting  developments.'  On  the  contrary, 
he  proceeded  to  maneuver  his  adversary  out  of  a  position 
from  which  he  could  not  drive  him,  and  to  force  him  to 


192  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

abandon  all  idea  of  further  aggressive  campaign  in  Virginia 
for  that  year. 

Early  in  June,  with  his  army  reorganized  into  three  corps, 
the  First  under  Longstreet,  embracing  the  divisions  of  Mc- 
Laws,  Picket,  and  Hood;  the  Second  under  Ewell,  embrac- 
ing Early,  Rodes,  and  Jackson;  and  the  Third  under  A.  P. 
Hill,  Anderson,  Heth,  and  Pender, — all  the  corps  command- 
ers being  lieutenant-generals, — Lee  drew  away  from  the  line 
of  the  Rappahannock,  leaving  Hill,  however,  for  a  short 
time,  to  watch  Hooker,  proceeded  northward,  by  way  of 
Culpeper  and  the  Valley  of  Virginia, — the  Second  Corps  in 
advance, — crossed  the  Shenandoah  near  Front  Royal  about 
June  1 2th,  and,  near  Winchester,  routed  and  captured  a  large 
part  of  the  force  which,  under  Milroy,  was  holding  the 
Lower  Valley.  Hill  followed  Ewell,  Longstreet's  corps  hov- 
ering yet  a  while  east  of  the  mountains,  to  cover  their  opera- 
tions. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  President  Lincoln  and  General 
Hooker  had  their  famous  serpentine  telegraphic  correspond- 
ence: 

"Where  is  the  Rebel  army?" 

"The  advance  is  at  the  fords  of  the  Potomac  and  the  rear 
at  Culpeper  Court  House." 

"If  the  head  of  the  animal  is  at  the  fords  of  the  Potomac 
and  the  tail  at  Culpeper  Court  House,  it  must  be  very  thin 
somewhere.     Why  don't  you  strike  it?" 

This  battle  of  Winchester — there  were  many  conflicts  in 
and  around  that  devoted  old  town — was  one  of  the  most  per- 
fect pieces  of  work  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  ever 
did.  Possibly  the  plan  seemed  so  admirably  clear  and  defi- 
nite and  to  move  with  the  precision  and  decision  of  a  prob- 
lem in  mathematics,  because,  for  the  first  time,  as  a  mounted 
officer  and  in  an  unusually  free  and  independent  position,  I 
personally  watched  every  movement.  I  may  add  that  the 
execution  of  the  plan  was  committed  largely  to  Old  Jube, 
who  certainly  wrought  it  out  and  fought  it  out  beautifully. 

The  town  of  Winchester  and  the  surrounding  country 
were  dominated  by  a  strong  closed  earthwork,  heavily  armed 
and  manned,  which  it  would  have  been  madness  to  assault, 


FROM   THE  RAPPAHANNOCK   TO   THE   POTOMAC         I93 

yet  folly  to  neglect ;  and  this  work,  on  the  only  side  which 
seemed  to  offer  anything  like  a  practicable  approach,  was 
protected  and  itself  dominated  by  an  outwork  which  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  carry  before  the  inner  and  more  pow- 
erful work  could  be  reduced.  Our  scouts  and  engineers  had 
done  their  work  thoroughly  and  our  column  was  conducted 
by  a  long  detour,  in  every  foot  of  which  we  were  concealed 
from  observation  from  either  work  by  forests  and  the  con- 
figuration of  the  ground ;  until  at  last  we  found  ourselves  in 
a  position  which  had  been  attained  with  difficulty,  but  which 
perfectly  commanded  the  outwork.  The  infantry  now  lay 
down  to  rest  and  recover  breath,  while  the  men  of  Hilary 
Jones'  battalion  of  artillery  shoved  their  guns  forward  by 
hand  up  to  and  just  back  of  a  rock  fence  which  ran  along 
the  crest  of  a  ridge,  under  cover  of  which  we  had  ap- 
proached, and  then  loaded  them.  They  next  removed  a  few 
of  the  stones  in  front  of  the  muzzle  of  each  gun,  taking 
great  care  to  remain  concealed  while  doing  this ;  and  when 
everything  was  ready  and  everyone  warned  to  do  his  part  on 
the  instant,  the  guns  were  discharged  simultaneously  upon 
the  outwork  and  a  rapid  fire  kept  up  upon  it,  while  the  in- 
fantry rose,  and,  with  the  wild  rebel  yell  bursting  from  their 
lips,  rushed  forward  in  the  charge.  The  surprise  was  com- 
plete, the  distance  not  great,  and  the  effect  overwhelming. 
The  outwork  was  abandoned  almost  without  a  struggle,  its 
defenders  retiring  to  the  main  fortification,  and  our  infantry 
again  lying  down  for  rest  and  protection  and  to  wait  for  us, 
while  our  guns  galloped  forward  to  the  captured  work,  some 
occupying  and  firing  from  it,  and  others  passing  to  the  right 
and  front  to  a  level  field  hard  by,  from  which  we  had  the 
main  work  beautifully  in  range. 

But  this  work  had  us  in  range  not  less  beautifully,  indeed 
even  more  perfectly,  and  played  havoc  with  us  for  a  short 
time.  My  recollection  is  that  I  was  acting  as  No.  6  at  one 
of  the  limbers,  and  that  I  several  times  instinctively  clapped 
down  the  lid  of  the  ammunition  chest  as  the  shell  seemed  to 
burst  immediately  over  it.  We  were  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  the  preternaturally  accurate  aim  of  the  guns  and  cutting 
of  the  fuses,  until  someone  chanced  to  observe  the  practice 


194  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

target  of  the  fort  standing  between  the  gun  at  which  I  was 
serving  and  the  one  next  to  it,  when,  of  course,  we  shifted 
our  position  in  a  twinkling,  dashing  up  still  closer  to  the 
fort  and  finding,  to  our  relief,  that  here  the  shells  passed 
for  the  most  part  over  our  heads. 

On  one  of  the  two  occasions  in  which  our  guns  passed 
to  the  right  and  front  of  the  recumbent  infantry  I  observed 
our  old  friend  Extra  Billy  Smith,  on  the  front  line  of  his 
brigade,  standing  erect,  with  his  arms  folded,  his  horse's 
bridle  rein  over  one  shoulder  and  his  blue  cotton  umbrella 
under  the  other,  he  and  his  horse  the  only  two  figures  I  saw 
standing  in  all  the  long  line.  The  heroic  old  man  was  as 
cool  as  a  cucumber  and  as  smiling  as  a  basket  of  chips,  and 
he  was  actually  bowing  to  the  artillerymen — as  with  hair  fly- 
ing and  eyes  flashing  they  passed  on  a  run — with  that  same 
manly,  hearty  greeting  which  had,  for  more  than  a  genera- 
tion, proved  irresistible  on  the  hustings  in  the  Old  Dominion. 
It  was  an  unparalleled  scene — unparalleled  as  an  exhibition 
of  courage,  of  personal  force,  and  of  the  force  of  habit.  I 
noted  the  expression  on  the  face  of  each  artilleryman  as  he 
recognized  and  responded  to  the  old  Governor's  salute,  and 
felt — there's  one  vote  sure  for  Extra  Billy  as  long  as  that 
gallant  cannoneer  lives.  The  old  hero  was  at  this  time 
Governor-elect  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Virginia. 

I  cannot  determine  exactly  when,  but  I  received  a  very 
singular,  and  what  threatened  to  be  a  very  serious,  injury 
during  one  of  the  moves  our  guns  made  after  becoming 
engaged — I  rather  incline  to  think  it  must  have  been  the 
first  time  we  shifted  position.  At  all  events,  I  had,  for  some 
reason,  given  up  my  horse  to  someone  and  was  fighting  on 
foot  in  some  position  with  one  of  the  guns  of  the  Charlottes- 
ville battery,  when  the  orders  were  given,  "Cease  firing,  lim- 
ber to  the  front,  cannoneers  mount !"  I  sprang  upon  a  lim- 
ber chest  upon  which  there  were  already  the  full  complement 
of  three  men,  all  faced,  of  course,  to  the  front.  I  faced  to 
the  rear,  and  bracing  my  back  against  the  back  of  the  middle 
man,  attempted  to  hold  my  position  with  my  feet  resting 
on  the  "lunette  plate" — a  flat  piece  of  iron  fitted  over  the 
end  of  the  trail  of  the  gun,  ending  in  a  heavy  ring,  which 


FROM   THE  RAPPAHANNOCK   TO   THE   POTOMAC         I95 

was  slipped  over  the  "pintle  hook"  on  the  front  axle,  thus 
coupling  the  gun  to  the  limber.  We  started  at  a  run  and 
were  galloping  under  fire  through  a  grove,  by  a  wood  road 
the  track  of  which  was  full  of  limestone  rocks  projecting 
more  or  less  above  the  ground.  It  was  very  difficult  to  keep 
my  footing,  as  I  had  on  a  pair  of  stiff  and  slick-soled  English 
shoes,  the  nails  in  which  had  worn  perfectly  smooth. 

Suddenly,  at  full  run,  we  struck  a  large  rock.  The  jar 
was  terrific,  and  all  the  men  were  thrown  off,  but  the  others, 
having  firm  footing,  described  arcs  which  landed  them  on  the 
turf  at  the  side  of  the  road.  My  feet,  however,  slipped,  and 
I  went  down  between  the  front  and  rear  wheels  and  directly 
under  the  gun.  The  concussion  was  so  tremendous  that  I 
supposed  the  limber  chest  had  exploded,  and  distinctly  re- 
member thinking  to  myself,  "Then  this  is  the  way  it  feels  to 
be  blown  up,  is  it?  Well,  I'll  try  anyhow  to  save  my  arms 
and  legs  in  case  I  shouldn't  be  killed,"  and  with  a  violent 
effort  I  did  manage  to  get  them  out  of  the  track  of  the  hind 
wheels,  one  of  which,  however,  ran  directly,  or  rather,  diag- 
onally, across  the  small  of  my  back  on  a  flat  limestone  rock. 

My  comrades  picked  themselves  up,  all  right  though 
slightly  shocked.  They  thought  me  dead,  but  dragged  me 
out  of  the  track  of  the  other  guns,  and  left  me  lying  on  the 
grass  under  a  tree.  In  a  short  time  I  came  to  myself,  and, 
on  taking  a  hurried  inventory,  found  that  though  very 
badly  jarred  and  bruised,  yet  no  bones  seemed  to  be  broken, 
and  concluded  I  would  try  to  hobble  on  into  the  fight,  which 
I  did,  lying  down  that  night  in  a  pouring  rain  and  sleeping 
in  a  puddle — I  presume  about  as  good  treatment  as  could 
have  been  prescribed.  Next  day  I  was  carried  into  Win- 
chester, and  after  two  or  three  days'  rest  rode  on  after  the 
army.  The  mark  of  the  gun  wheel  remained  on  my  back 
for  a  year  or  more,  but  I  never  experienced  any  serious  pain 
or  inconvenience  from  the  injury.  I  attribute  my  escape,  in 
part  at  least,  to  my  unusually  full  muscular  development  at 
the  time. 

Upon  one  of  our  shiftings  of  position  in  the  battle  I  was 
on  foot,  abreast  of  one  of  the  guns  of  the  Charlottesville 
battery,  and  following  close  after  John  Hunter,  sergeant  of 


I96  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

that  piece,  who  was  riding  his  little  chestnut  mare,  "Madge," 
when  a  thirty-pounder  Parrott  shell  passed  through  her 
body,  just  back  of  the  legs  of  the  rider,  exploding  as  it 
emerged,  and  spattering  me  profusely  with  the  blood  of  the 
poor  animal.  Little  Madge  was  not  even  jarred — any  ex- 
perienced artillerist  will  understand  this.  She  "never  knew 
what  hit  her,"  but  sank  gently  down;  while  Hunter  did  not 
get  even  so  much  as  a  decent  "shaking  up,"  not  a  very  easy 
thing  to  administer  to  him,  I  frankly  admit.  When  his  feet 
touched  the  ground — they  were  not  far  from  it  even  while 
Madge  stood  up  on  all  fours — he  simply  disengaged  them 
from  the  stirrups,  turned  around,  glanced  a  moment  at  the 
bloody  horror,  and  said  :    "Well,  poor  little  Madge !" 

True,  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said,  but  all  the  same 
there  was  not  another  man  of  my  acquaintance  who- would 
not  have  said  more. 

The  sergeant  still  lives.  His  yea  is  still  yea  and  his  nay, 
nay.  He  is  a  shining  example  of  that  admirable  class  of 
men  and  philosophers  who  never  say  anything  superfluous 
or  give  strained  or  exaggerated  expression  to  anything;  yet 
his  heart,  as  everyone  knows,  is  not  only  in  the  right  place, 
but  the  very  rightest  kind  of  a  heart.  He  is  one  of  my  best 
friends  and  the  husband  of  one  of  Billy's  "seven  women." 

During  our  next  change  of  position,  or  it  may  have  been 
during  the  same  move,  I  witnessed  a  scene  of  horror  and  of 
agony  so  extreme  that  I  would  not  describe  it  were  it  not. 
that  a  knowledge  of  the  widest  swings  of  the  pendulum  of 
war,  through  the  entire  orbit  of  human  experiences  and 
emotions,  is  needed  for  adequate  appreciation  of  the  life  of 
the  soldier. 

The  entire  battalion,  Hilary  Jones',  was  moving  in  col- 
umn, the  Charlottesville  battery,  in  which  I  was  serving, 
following  immediately  after  Garber's.  The  farm  road  we 
were  using  led  between  two  heavy  old-fashioned  gate  posts. 
My  recollection  is  that  they  were  of  stone  and  that  there 
was  no  gate  and  no  fence  on  either  side  of  the  posts,  but 
the  ground  outside  of  and  near  the  posts  was  somewhat 
rough  and  steep.  One  of  Garber's  men,  belonging  to  his 
rear  gun,  attempted  to  run  abreast  of  the  piece  between  the 


FROM   THE  RAPPAHANNOCK   TO   THE   POTOMAC         IQ7 

gate  posts,  presumably  to  avoid  the  rough  ground  outside. 
There  was  not  room  enough  for  him  to  pass,  and  the  wheel 
crowding  him  against  the  post,  the  washer  hook  caught  and 
tore  open  his  abdomen,  dragging  the  poor  wretch  along  by 
his  intestines,  which  were  literally  pulled  from  his  body  in 
a  long,  gory  ribbon. 

At  one  of  the  last  positions  we  took  in  the  fight — it  may 
have  been  the  very  last — there  passed  before  me  one  of  those 
scenes  which  give  a  flash-light  revelation  of  the  incom- 
parable greatness  of  war  and  the  sublime  self-abnegation  of 
the  true  soldier.  The  fire  of  the  Federal  guns  was  verv 
deadly  and  demoralizing,  and  the  captain  of  the  battery  next 
on  our  right,  I  think  the  Louisiana  Guard  Artillery,  came 
up  the  hill  between  his  battery  and  ours  to  steady  his  men. 
He  was  a  fine  horseman,  finely  mounted,  and  might  well 
have  served  as  a  model  for  an  equestrian  statue  as  he  rode  out 
between  the  smoking  muzzles,  and,  rising  in  his  stirrups, 
cheered  on  his  gunners.  At  that  moment  a  shell  tore  away 
his  bridle  arm  high  up  near  the  shoulder.  Instantly  he 
caught  the  reins  with  his  right  hand  and  swung  his  horse's 
head  sharply  to  the  left,  thus  concealing  his  wounded  side 
from  his  men,  saying  as  he  did  so,  "Keep  it  up,  boys ;  I'll 
be  back  in  a  moment!"  As  he  started  down  the  hill  I  saw 
him  reel  in  the  saddle,  and  even  before  he  reached  the  limbers 
the  noble  fellow  fell  from  his  horse — dead. 

We  were  actively  engaged,  as  I  remember,  until  almost 
or  quite  dark ;  but  as  soon  as  the  fire  slackened  I  lay  down, 
very  sore  from  the  severe  bruising  and  crushing  I  had  re- 
ceived, and  of  course  in  no  condition  for  close  or  accurate 
observation,  so  I  do  not  know  when  it  was  discovered  that 
the  garrison  were  abandoning  the  fort  and  preparing  to  re- 
treat, or  what  steps  were  taken  to  intercept  them.  They 
were  intercepted,  however ;  our  operations  resulting,  as  Gen- 
eral Lee  reported,  "in  the  expulsion  of  the  enemy  from  the 
Valley,  the  capture  of  four  thousand  prisoners,  with  a  cor- 
responding number  of  small  arms ;  twenty-eight  pieces  of  su- 
perior artillery,  including  those  taken  by  General  Rodes  and 
General  Hayes ;  about  three  hundred  wagons  and  as  many 
horses,  together  with  a  quantity  of  ordnance,  commissary, 
and  quartermaster's  stores." 


I98  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

The  remnant  of  Milroy's  forces  took  refuge  behind  the 
fortifications  of  Harper's  Ferry;  but  as  the  reduction  of  that 
place  had  proved  a  very  disturbing  element  in  General  Lee's 
plans  for  the  Maryland  campaign  of  the  preceding  year, 
we  gave  it  the  go-by  this  time;  Lieutenant-General  Ewell 
with  his  three  divisions,  still  in  the  van,  crossing  the  Poto- 
mac in  the  latter  part  of  June,  rapidly  traversing  Maryland 
and  advancing  into  Pennsylvania. 


CHAPTER  XV 

IN    PENNSYLVANIA 

Impressing  Horses  the  Only  Plundering  Lee's  Army  Did — A  Remarka- 
ble Interview  with  An  Old  Lady  in  a  Pennsylvania  Town — She  Ex- 
pects to  Meet  Stonewall  Jackson  in  Heaven — Two  Pennsylvania 
Boys  Make  Friends  with  the  Rebels  — "Extra  Billy"  Leads  the  Con- 
federate Column  into  York,  His  Brigade  Band  Playing  "Yankee 
Doodle,"  and  Makes  a  Speech  on  the  Public  Green — "Old  Jube" 
Breaks  Up  the  Meeting — "Dick"  Ewell  and  the  Burghers  of  Car- 
lisle. 

I  do  not  remember  where  I  overtook  Ewell 's  corps,  but 
think  I  entered  Pennsylvania  with  them.  General  Lee  had 
issued  stringent  orders  against  plundering  and,  certainly  in 
the  main,  the  men  carefully  observed  these  orders.  I  was 
constantly  told  by  the  inhabitants  that  they  suffered  less 
from  our  troops  than  from  their  own,  and  that  if  com- 
pelled to  have  either,  they  preferred  having  "the  rebels" 
camped  upon  their  lands.  I  saw  no  plundering  whatever, 
except  that  once  or  twice  I  did  see  branches  laden  with 
fruit  broken  from  cherry  trees. 

Of  course,  it  goes  without  saying,  that  the  quartermasters, 
especially  of  artillery  battalions,  were,  confessedly  and  of 
malice  aforethought,  horse  thieves.  It  was,  perhaps,  adding 
insult  to  injury  to  offer  to  pay  for  the  horses,  as  we  did,  in 
Confederate  money;  yet  occasionally  the  owners  took  it,  as 
"better  than  nothing" — how  better  it  would  be  difficult  to 
say.  I  felt  sorry  for  the  farmers,  some  of  whom  actually 
concealed  their  horses  in  their  dwelling  houses,  or,  rather, 
attempted  to  conceal  them,  for  we  became  veritable  sleuth- 
hounds  in  running  down  a  horse,  and  were  up  to  all  the 
tricks  and  dodges  devised  to  throw  us  off  the  track. 

After  all,  we  gained  very  little  by  our  horse  stealing. 
The    impressed    animals    were,    for    the    most    part,    great, 


200  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

clumsy,  flabby  Percherons  or  Conestogas,  which  required 
more  than  twice  the  feed  our  compact,  hard-muscled  little 
Virginia  horses  required,  and  yet  could  not  do  half  the 
work  they  did,  nor  stand  half  the  hardship  and  exposure.  It 
was  pitiable,  later,  to  see  these  great  brutes  suffer  when 
compelled  to  dash  off  at  full  gallop  with  a  gun,  after  pastur- 
ing on  dry  broom  sedge  and  eating  a  quarter  of  a  feed  of 
weevil-eaten  corn.  They  seemed  to  pine  for  the  slow  draft 
and  full  feed  of  their  Pennsylvania  homes. 

To  me  this  campaign  of  invasion  was  of  somewhat  pe- 
culiar interest.  Not  only  did  I  have  a  wide  general  acquaint- 
ance with  the  North,  but  two  or  three  of  my  Yale  classmates 
were  from  the  very  section  of  country  we  were  traversing, 
and  I  therefore  felt  somewhat  acquainted  and  connected  with 
the  people  and  the  region.  I  wras  struck,  too,  with  the  re- 
semblance, both  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants,  to  the 
Valley  of  Virginia.  I  noted  the  same  two  great  stocks  and 
races  as  making  up  the  population, — the  Dutch  and  the 
Scotch-Irish, — and  to  a  great  extent  they  had  laid  out  their 
smaller  towns  and  arranged  their  buildings,  orchards,  wells, 
— everything,  in  short, — upon  their  farms,  very  much  after 
the  familiar  Valley  pattern. 

One  bright  day  toward  the  end  of  June,  our  column  was 
passing  through  the  main  street  of  such  a  town,  when,  being 
very  thirsty,  I  rode  up  to  the  front  fence  of  a  house  which, 
with  its  yard  and  surroundings,  might  have  been  set  down  in 
the  main  street  of  any  one  of  a  half-dozen  Valley  of  Virginia 
towns  without  being  in  any  respect  out  of  place,  and  asked 
an  elderly  lady  sitting  in  the  porch  if  I  might  get  a  drink  of 
water  from  the  well.  She  courteously  gave  permission  and 
I  entered  the  yard,  got  a  delicious  drink  of  water,  thanked 
her,  and  was  in  the  act  of  leaving,  when  the  old  lady — who 
looked  like  the  typical  Valley  gran'ma — very  pleasantly  ask- 
ed if  I  wouldn't  take  a  seat  and  rest  a  little.  I  thanked  her, 
stepped  up  on  the  porch  and  sat  down,  and  we  soon  got 
into  a  friendly  and  pleasant  conversation,  in  the  course  of 
which  she  asked  me  of  myself,  family,  and  surroundings, 
and  seemed  much  interested  to  know  that  I  had  a  sister  in 
New  Haven,  Conn.    She  gladly  consented  to  mail  a  letter  for 


IN   PENNSYLVANIA  201 

me,  and  had  a  table,  pen,  ink,  paper  and  stamps  brought  that 
1  might  write  it.  This  letter  was  faithfully  mailed  by  the 
old  lady,  and  was  the  only  communication  my  sister  received 
from  me  for  a  year  or  more. 

As  I  finished  writing  a  young  married  woman,  evidently 
the  daughter  of  my  kindly  hostess,  came  to  the  door,  saying 
that  her  little  son,  naming  him,  was  missing.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments they  brought  the  child,  a  boy  of  five  or  six  years,  to 
the  front  porch,  pale  and  trembling  violently.  They  had 
found  him  between  the  mattress  and  feather  bed  in  an  up- 
stairs room,  where  he  had  hidden  for  fear  of  the  rebels,  of 
whose  ferocious  cruelty,  blood-curdling  tales  had  been  told 
him.  In  a  few  moments  he  was  in  my  lap,  and  we  were 
the  best  of  friends. 

Just  as  he  was  beginning  to  warm  into  his  nest  his 
mother  announced  that  she  had  not  seen  anything  of  her 
elder  son  for  some  time,  when,  on  the  instant,  a  bright  boy 
of  ten  or  twelve  summers  burst  into  the  gate,  breathless 
with  excitement,  and  gasped  out,  "Mother,  mother !  may  I 
go  to  camp  with  the  rebels  ?  They  are  the  nicest  men  I  ever 
saw  in  my  life.  They  are  going  to  camp  right  out  here  in 
the  woods,  and  they  are  going  to  have  a  dance,  too !" 

Harry  Hayes'  Louisiana  brigade  was  passing  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  in  the  open  gate  stood  the  lad's  companion,  wait- 
ing for  him — a  bowing,  smiling,  grimacing-,  shoulder-shrug- 
ging Frenchman,  who  promised,  in  rather  broken  English, 
that  he  would  take  the  best  possible  care  of  him.  The 
mother  hesitated,  but  a  glance  at  her  youngest,  whose  arm 
had  now  stolen  around  my  neck,  decided  her,  and  off  went 
her  eldest  with  his  Creole  comrade;  and  if  the  brigade  did 
have  the  dance,  then  the  lad  saw  what  was  really  worth  see- 
ing, for  if  there  was  anything  Hayes'  Creoles  did  and  loved 
to  do  better  than  to  fight,  it  was  to  dance;  and  their  camp 
stag  dances,  sandwiched  in  between  a  big  march  and  a  big 
battle,  were  said  to  be  the  most  "utterly  utter"  performances 
in  the  way  of  faun-like  pranks,  that  grown  and  sane  men 
ever  indulged  in. 

Before  I  left  the  old  lady  asked  me  if  I  had  ever  seen 
Stonewall  Jackson,  and  upon  my  responding  that  I  had,  she 


202  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

said  quietly,  but  with  the  deepest  feeling,  that  she  expected 
to  see  him  soon,  for  if  anyone  had  ever  left  this  earth  who 
had  gone  straight  to  Heaven  it  was  he. 

This  was  almost  too  much,  and  I  said  to  her,  "Madam, 
who  on  earth  are  you  and  where  did  you  come  from  ?"  She 
said  she  was  born  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia  and  had  been 
brought  to  this  country  when  a  girl.  I  could  not  forbear 
kissing  her  hand  as  I  departed,  and  told  her  I  felt  sure  she 
would  get  There,  and  I  hoped  we  would  meet  in  that  blessed 
country  where  there  would  be  no  more  wars  nor  separations 
between  God's  dear  children. 

By  this  time -the  reader  has  doubtless  learned  that  things 
were  not  likely  to  be  dull  when  our  old  friend  "Extra  Billy" 
was  about;  that  in  fact  there  was  apt  to  be  "music  in  the 
air"  whenever  he  was  in  charge.  On  the  occasion  below  de- 
scribed, the  old  Governor  seemed  to  be  rather  specially  con- 
cerned about  the  musical  part  of  the  performance. 

We  were  about  entering  the  beautiful  Pennsylvania  town 
of  York,  General  Smith's  brigade  in  the  lead.  Under  these 
conditions,  feeling  sure  there  was  likely  to  be  a  breeze  stir- 
ring about  the  head  of  the  column,  I  rode  forward  so  as  to 
be  near  the  General  and  not  to  miss  the  fun.  As  we  approach- 
ed the  population  seemed  to  be  very  generally  in  the  streets, 
and  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  old  Governor  had  blood  in  his 
eye.  Turning  to  Fred,  his  aide, — who  was  also  his  son,  and 
about  the  strongest  marked  case  of  second  edition  I  ever 
saw, — he  told  him  to  "Go  back  and  look  up  those  tooting 
fellows,"  as  he  called  the  brigade  band,  "and  tell  them  first 
to  be  sure  their  drums  and  horns  are  all  right,  and  then  to 
come  up  here  to  the  front  and  march  into  town  tooting 
'Yankee  Doodle'  in  their  very  best  style." 

Fred  was  off  in  a  jiffy,  and  soon  here  came  the  band,  their 
instruments  looking  bright  and  smart  and  glistening  in  the 
June  sunlight — playing,  however,  not  "Yankee  Doodle,"  but 
"Dixie,"  the  musicians  appearing  to  think  it  important  to  be 
entirely  impartial  in  rendering  these  national  airs,  and  there- 
fore giving  us  "Dixie"  by  way  of  prelude  to  "Yankee 
Doodle." 

When  they  got  to  the  head  of  the  column,  and  struck  up 
"Yankee  Doodle,"  and  the  Governor,  riding  alone  and  bare- 


IN   PENNSYLVANIA  203 

headed  in  front  of  his  staff,  began  bowing  and  saluting 
first  one  side  and  then  the  other,  and  especially  every 
pretty  girl  he  saw,  with  that  manly,  hearty  smile  which  no 
man  or  woman  ever  doubted  or  resisted — the  Yorkers  seem- 
ed at  first  astounded,  then  pleased,  and  finally,  by  the  time  we 
reached  the  public  square,  they  had  reached  the  point  of 
ebullition,  and  broke  into  enthusiastic  cheers  as  they  crowded 
about  the  head  of  the  column,  actually  embarrassing  its 
progress,  till  the  old  Governor, — the  "Governor-General," 
we  might  call  him, — nothing  loth,  acceded  to  the  half  sug- 
gestion and  called  a  halt,  his  brigade  stacking  arms,  and 
constituting,  if  not  formally  organizing,  themselves  and  the 
people  of  York  into  a  political  meeting. 

It  was  a  rare  scene — the  vanguard  of  an  invading  army 
and  the  invaded  and  hostile  population  hobnobbing  on  the 
public  green  in  an  enthusiastic  public  gathering.  The  gen- 
eral did  not  dismount,  but  from  the  saddle  he  made  a 
rattling,  humorous  speech,  which  both  the  Pennsylvanians 
and  his  own  brigade  applauded  to  the  echo.  He  said  sub- 
stantially : 

"My  friends,  how  do  you  like  this  way  of  coming  back 
into  the  Union  ?  I  hope  you  like  it ;  I  have  been  in  favor  of  it 
for  a  good  while.  But  don't  misunderstand  us.  We  are 
not  here  with  any  hostile  intent — unless  the  conduct  of  your 
side  shall  render  hostilities  unavoidable.  You  can  see  for 
yourselves  we  are  not  conducting  ourselves  like  enemies  to- 
day. We  are  not  burning  your  houses  or  butchering  your 
children.  On  the  contrary,  we  are  behaving  ourselves  like 
Christian  gentlemen,  as  we  are. 

"You  see,  it  was  getting  a  little  warm  down  our  way.  We 
needed  a  summer  outing  and  thought  we  would  take  it  at  the 
North,  instead  of  patronizing  the  Virginia  springs,  as  we 
generally  do.  We  are  sorry,  and  apologize  that  we  are  not 
in  better  guise  for  a  visit  of  courtesy,  but  we  regret  to  sav- 
our trunks  haven't  gotten  up  yet ;  we  were  in  such  a  hurry  to 
see  you  that  we  could  not  wait  for  them.  You  must  really 
excuse  us. 

"What  we  all  need,  on  both  sides,  is  to  mingle  more  with 
each  other,  so  that  we  shall  learn  to  know  and  appreciate 


204  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

each  other.  Now  here's  my  brigade — I  wish  you  knew  them 
as  I  do.  They  are  such  a  hospitable,  whole-hearted,  fascinat- 
ing lot  of  gentlemen.  Why,  just  think  of  it — of  course  this 
part  of  Pennsylvania  is  ours  to-day;  we've  got  it,  we  hold 
it,  we  can  destroy  it,  or  do  what  we  please  with  it.  Yet  we 
sincerely  and  heartily  invite  you  to  stay.  You  are  quite 
welcome  to  remain  here  and  to  make  yourselves  entirely  at 
home — so  long  as  you  behave  yourselves  pleasantly  and 
agreeably  as  you  are  doing  now.  Are  we  not  a  fine  set  of 
fellows?    You  must  admit  that  we  are." 

At  this  point  my  attention  was  called  to  a  volley  of  very 
heated  profanity  poured  forth  in  a  piping,  querulous  treble, 
coming  up  from  the  rear,  and  being  mounted  and  located 
where  I  commanded  a  view  of  the  road,  I  saw  that  the  sec- 
ond brigade  in  column,  which  had  been  some  distance  in 
the  rear,  had  caught  up,  and  was  now  held  up  by  our  public 
meeting,  which  filled  and  obstructed  the  entire  street,  and 
that  Old  Jube,  who  had  ridden  forward  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  dead-lock,  was  fairly  blistering  the  air  about 
him  and  making  furious  but  for  the  time  futile  efforts  to  get 
at  Extra  Billy,  who  in  plain  sight,  and  not  far  off,  yet  bliss- 
fully unconscious  of  the  presence  of  the  major-general  and 
of  his  agreeable  observations  and  comments,  was  still  hold- 
ing forth  with  great  fluency  and  acceptability. 

The  jam  was  solid  and  impervious.  As  D.  H.  Hill's  re- 
port phrased  it,  "Not  a  dog,  no,  not  even  a  sneaking  exempt, 
could  have  made  his  way  through" — and  at  first  and  for 
some  time,  Old  Jube  couldn't  do  it,  and  no  one  would  help 
him.  But  at  last  officers  and  men  were  compelled  to  recog- 
nize the  division  commander,  and  he  made  his  way  so  far 
that,  by  leaning  forward,  a  long  stretch, 'and  a  frantic  grab, 
he  managed  to  catch  General  Smith  by  the  back  of  his  coat 
collar.  Even  Jube  did  not  dare  curse  the  old  general  in  an 
offensive  way,  but  he  did  jerk  him  back  and  around  pretty 
vigorously  and  half  screamed : 

"General  Smith,  what  the  devil  are  you  about !  stopping 
the  head  of  this  column  in  this  cursed  town  ?" 


IN   PENNSYLVANIA  205 

With  unruffled  composure  the  old  fellow  replied : 

"Having  a  little  fun,  General,  which  is  good  for  all  of  us, 
and  at  the  same  time  teaching  these  people  something  that 
will  be  good  for  them  and  won't  do  us  any  harm." 

Suffice  it  to  say  the  matter  was  amicably  arranged  and 
the  brigade  and  its  unique  commander  moved  on,  leaving 
the  honest  burghers  of  York  wondering  what  manner  of 
men  we  were.  I  should  add  that  General  Early  had  the 
greatest  regard  and  admiration  for  General  Smith,  which 
indeed  he  could  not  well  avoid,  in  view  of  his  intense 
patriotic  devotion  and  his  other  sterling  and  heroic  quali- 
ties. I  have  seldom  heard  him  speak  of  any  other  officer  or 
soldier  in  the  service,  save  of  course  Lee  and  Jackson,  in 
such  exalted  terms  as  of  the  old  "Governor-General." 

May  I  be  pardoned  for  relating  one  more  incident  of  our 
Pennsylvania  trip,  and  that  not  strictly  a  reminiscence;  that 
is,  I  was  not  present  and  did  not  myself  hear  the  conversation 
I  propose  to  relate.  During  the  latter  part  of  the  war  I  en- 
joyed the  privilege  and  pleasure  of  intimate  personal  ac- 
quaintance with  Lieutenant-General  Ewell,  but  at  this  time 
I  knew  him  only  as  every  soldier  in  the  army  knew  him. 
Some  of  his  salient  peculiarities,  as  well  as  the  peculiar 
character  of  some  of  our  intercourse  with  the  people  of 
Pennsylvania,  are  well  brought  out  in  the  following  story, 
which  I  have  every  reason  to  regard  as  authentic. 

The  General  was,  I  think,  at  Carlisle,  though  I  am  not 
quite  certain  of  the  place,  when  the  burghers  of  the  town, 
or  rather  a  deputed  committee  of  solid  citizens,  called  at 
headquarters  to  interview  him  with  reference  to  several  mat- 
ters. Amongst  other  things  they  said  there  was  a  certain 
mill,  the  product  of  which  was  used  largely  by  the  poorer 
people  of  the  place,  who  were  suffering  and  likely  to  suffer 
more,  because  of  fhe  mill's  not  running,  and  they  asked 
whether  he  had  any  objection  to  its  being  run. 

"Why,  no,"  said  Old  Dick;  "certainly  not.  It  isn't  my 
mill;  what  have  I  got  to  do  with  it  anyhow?  But  stop, 
maybe  this  is  what  you  want — if  any  of  my  people  should 
interfere  with  your  use  of  your  mill,  you  come  and  tell  me. 
Will  that  do,  and  is  that  all  ?" 


206  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

They  thanked  him  profusely  and  the  spokesman  said : 

"No,  General,  that  isn't  quite  all.  We  are  Lutherans  and 
we've  got  a  church." 

"Glad  to  hear  it." 

"Well,  can  we  open  it  next  Sunday?" 

"What  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  It  isn't  my  church.  Cer- 
tainly, open  it,  if  you  want  to.  I'll  attend  it  myself  if  I  am 
here." 

"O,  thank  you,  General !  we  hoped  you  wouldn't  object." 

"Object?  What  do  you  mean,  anyway?  What's  the 
matter  ?  What  do  you  want  ?  Out  with  it.  I'll  do  anything 
I  can  for  you,  but  I've  got  nothing  to  do  with  your  mills  or 
your  churches.  I'm  not  going  to  interfere  with  them,  but 
I  haven't  time  to  stay  here  all  the  evening  talking  nonsense 
like  this." 

"But,  General,  we  hope  you  won't  be  mad  with  us.  We 
are  Lutherans  and  we  have  a  church  service.  Can  we  use 
it  next  Sunday?" 

"Look  here,  I'm  tired  of  this  thing!  What  have  I  got  to 
do  with  your  mill,  your  church,  or  your  service?  Speak 
quick  and  speak  plain,  or  leave  at  once !" 

"Well,  then,  General,  we  hope  you  won't  get  mad.  In  our 
service  we  pray — we  pray  for — we  pray  for  the  President 
of  the  United  States.  May  we  use  our  service?  Can  we 
pray  for  him?" 

"Who  do  you  mean,  Lincoln?  Certainly,  pray  for  him; 
pray  as  much  as  ever  you  can — I  don't  know  anybody  that 
stands  more  in  need  of  prayer !" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

GETTYSBURG 

Lee  Without  His  Cavalry- — The  Battle,  When  and  Where  Fought,  An 
Accident — The  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  in  Splendid  Condition — 
Gordon  on  Black  Auster — A  Fistic  Encounter  at  the  Crisis  of  the 
Great  Battle — "Limber  to  the  Rear" — A  Great  Disappointment — A 
Desperate  Ride — Dead  Enemies  More  to  Be  Dreaded  Than  Living 
Ones — The  Dutch  Woman's  Ankles. 

Gettysburg,  generally  regarded  as  the  pivotal  battle  of  our 
great  civil  war,  has  been  more  studied  and  discussed  than 
any  other,  and  much  unpleasant  feeling  between  prominent 
actors  in  the  drama  on  the  Confederate  side  and  their  ad- 
herents and  partisans  has  been  brought  out  in  the  discus- 
sion. The  writer  has  his  own  opinions  upon  most  or  all  of 
the  disputed  points ;  but,  while  resting  upon  grounds  satis- 
factory to  himself,  these  opinions  are  not  based  upon  such  a 
thorough  study  of  the  battle  as  would  alone  justify  the  effort 
to  influence  the  views  of  others,  if  indeed  such  an  effort 
could  be  regarded  as  properly  within  the  scope  of  such  a 
work  as  this. 

As  usual  with  great  battles,  it  was  not  the  plan  or  purpose 
of  either  side  to  fight  this  one  when  and  where  it  was  fought. 
Meade,  who  had  succeeded  Hooker,  had  selected  a  position 
en  Pipe  Clay  Creek,  where  he  would  have  concentrated  his 
army — but  for  the  capture  of  President  Davis'  message  to 
General  Lee,  revealing  the  fact  that  he  feared  to  uncover 
Richmond  by  detaching  Beauregard  to  threaten  Washington 
as  Lee  had  advised — and  Lee  had  ordered  the  concentration 
of  his  army  at  Cashtown ;  but  there  was  this  great  difference 
between  the  circumstances  of  the  two  armies.  The  battle 
was  brought  on  by  the  advance  of  the  Federal  cavalry,  in  the 
discharge  of  its  legitimate  work  of  developing  our  forces  and 


208  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

positions  and  gathering  information  for  the  Federal  com- 
mander. The  Confederate  leader,  on  the  other  hand,  was, 
in  great  measure,  without  his  cavalry ;  no  information  what- 
ever had  been  received  by  him,  since  crossing  the  Potomac, 
of  or  from  General  Stuart  or  his  troopers.  His  army  was, 
therefore,  in  the  condition  of  a  blind  man  surrounded  by 
enemies  endowed  with  vision  and  making  full  use  of  it. 

It  is  fair  to  Stuart  to  say  that  it  had  been  left  to  his  dis- 
cretion when  and  where  he  should  cross  the  river — whether 
east  of  the  mountains,  or  in  the  track  of  the  infantry  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Valley;  but  Colonel  Taylor  says:  "He  was 
expected  to  maintain  communication  with  the  main  column, 
and  especially  directed  to  keep  the  commanding  general  in- 
formed of  the  movements  of  the  Federal  army."  Did  his 
one  besetting  weakness  betray  him  again  ?  Was  he  too  much 
absorbed  and  infatuated  with  the  fun  of  seeing  how  near  his 
eastern  sweep  could  approach  the  fortifications  of  Washing- 
ton, or  how  far  his  bursting  shell  could  terrorize  the  Federal 
capital  ? 

On  the  eve  of  Gettysburg  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
with  the  exception  of  the  cavalry,  was  well  in  hand  and  in 
the  finest  possible  plight.  Of  course  its  equipment  was  not 
perfect,  though  better,  I  think,  than  I  remember  to  have  seen 
it  at  any  other  time,  while  the  physical  condition  and  the 
spirit  of  the  men  could  not  have  been  finer.  The  way  in 
which  the  army  took  the  death  of  Jackson  was  a  striking 
test  of  its  high  mettle.  I  do  not  recall  having  talked  with  a 
man  who  seemed  to  be  depressed  by  it,  while  the  common  sol- 
diers spoke  of  it  in  wondrous  fashion.  They  seemed  to  have 
imbibed,  to  a  great  extent,  the  spirit  of  Lee's  order  announc- 
ing Jackson's  death.  They  said  they  felt  that  his  spirit  was 
with  us  and  would  be  throughout  the  campaign.  It  seemed 
to  be  their  idea  that  God  would  let  his  warrior  soul  leave  for 
a  time  the  tamer  bliss  of  Heaven  that  it  might  revel  once 
more  in  the  fierce  joy  of  battle. 

The  Third  Corps,  A.  P.  Hill's,  the  last  to  leave  the  line  of 
the  Rappahannock,  was  the  first  to  become  engaged  in  the 
great  fight. 

On  the  29th  of  June,  Hill,  who  was  at  Fayetteville,  be- 
tween Chambersburg  and  Gettysburg,  under  general  orders 


GETTYSBURG  209 

to  co-operate  with  Ewell  in  menacing  the  communication  of 
Harrisburg  with  Philadelphia,  sent  Heth's  division  to  Cash- 
town,  following  it  on  the  30th  with  Pender's,  and  on  the  1st 
of  July  with  Anderson's  division.  On  the  1st,  Heth  sent  for- 
ward Pettygrew's  brigade  toward  Gettysburg,  where  it  en- 
countered a  considerable  Federal  force,  how  considerable 
Pettygrew  could  not  determine;  but  it  consisted  in  part  at 
least  of  cavalry,  and  this  information  was  at  once  sent, 
through  Heth  and  Hill,  to  the  commanding  general,  who 
directed  Heth  to  ascertain  if  possible  what  force  was  at 
Gettysburg,  and  if  he  found  infantry  to  report  at  once,  but 
not  to  force  an  engagement.  He  did  find  infantry,  a  large 
body  of  it,  and  finding  himself  unable  to  draw  away  from 
it,  soon  became  hotly  engaged.  The  sound  of  artillery  hur- 
ried Hill  to  the  front  and  he  put  in  Pender's  division  in 
support  of  Heth.  Anderson  did  not  get  up  in  time  to  take 
part  in  this  fight. 

But  the  Second  Corps,  Ewell' s,  to  which  I  was  attached, 
or  rather  two  divisions  of  it,  Early's  and  Rodes',  which 
were  already  en  route  for  Cashtown,  hearing  at  Middle- 
town  that  Hill  was  concentrating  at  Gettysburg,  turned 
toward  that  point,  and  Rodes,  who  was  in  the  advance, 
gathering  from  the  cannonading  that  a  sharp  engagement 
was  in  progress,  hurried  forward  and  made  his  dispositions 
for  battle.  But  before  he  could  form  his  lines  so  as  to 
most  effectively  aid  Hill's  two  divisions,  he  found  fresh 
Federal  troops  deploying  in  his  own  front  and  soon  became 
engaged  with  these.  Meanwhile,  our  division  (Early's)  was 
subjected  to  one  of  the  most  straining  of  the  experiences  of 
the  soldier — approaching  a  field  of  battle,  invisible  as  yet, 
and  played  upon  by  the  cadence  and  the  swell  of  the  fire.  I 
well  recall  the  scene  as,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
our  column  left  the  road  and  deployed  out  into  line  upon 
an  elevated  plateau,  from  which  we  had  a  full  view  of  the 
field  and  of  the  drawn  battle  trembling  in  the  balance  in  our 
front. 

Every  experienced  soldier,  particularly  if  he  is  a  man  of 
sensitive  nature  and  pictorial  memory,  will  appreciate  my 
saying  that  two  strongly  contrasted    figures    are    almost 


2IO  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

equally  prominent  in  my  recollections  of  this  scene.  One  is 
Old  Jube,  as  with  consuming  earnestness  he  connected  his 
right  with  Rodes'  left  and  gave  the  order  to  advance — his 
glossy  black  ostrich  feather,  in  beautiful  condition,  seeming 
to  glisten  and  gleam  and  tremble  upon  the  wide  brim  of  his 
gray-brown  felt  hat,  like  a  thing  of  life;  and  the  other,  a 
dwarfish,  dumpy  little  fellow,  of  the  division  pioneer  corps, 
who  at  this  moment  came  running  up  to  his  command,  just 
as  I  was  leaving  it  to  take  my  place  with  the  artillery,  carry- 
ing under  each  arm  a  great,  round,  Dutch  loaf  of  bread 
about  the  size  of  a  cart  wheel,  giving  him,  upon  a  side  view, 
such  as  I  had  of  him,  the  appearance  of  rolling  in  on  wheels. 

Early's  attack  was  one  of  great  impetuosity,  especially  that 
of  Gordon's  brigade,  and  while,  even  after  his  two  brigades 
— Hayes'  and  Gordon's — entered  the  fight,  the  preponderance 
in  numbers  was  still  with  the  Federal  side,  yet  they  broke 
almost  immediately  in  front  of  Early;  whereupon  our  entire 
line —  the  two  divisions  of  our  corps  and  the  two  of  Hill's — 
made  a  simultaneous  advance,  and  the  whole  Federal  force, 
consisting  of  the  First  and  Eleventh  Corps,  of  three  divisions 
each,  and  Buford's  cavalry,  gave  way  in  utter  rout.  The 
Charlottesville  battery  followed  immediately  in  rear  of  Gor- 
don, and  I  was  in  charge  of  one  of  their  pieces.  We  drove 
the  enemy  pell-mell  over  rolling  wheat  fields,  through  a 
grove,  across  a  creek,  up  a  little  slope  and  into  the  town  it- 
self. The  pursuit  was  so  close  and  hot  that,  though  my  gun 
came  into  battery  several  times,  yet  I  could  not  get  in  a  shot. 

Gordon  was  the  most  glorious  and  inspiring  thing  I  ever 
looked  upon.  He  wras  riding  a  beautiful  coal-black  stallion, 
captured  at  Winchester,  that  had  belonged  to  one  of  the  Fed- 
eral generals  in  Milroy's  army — a  majestic  animal,  *  whose 
"neck  was  clothed  with  thunder."     From  his  grand  joy  in 


*In  Scribucr's  for  June,  1903,  General  Gordon  mentions  this  horse, 
describing  him  very  much  as  I  have  done.  He  adds  that  he  only  rode 
him  in  one  battle ;  that  he  behaved  well  at  first  under  artillery  fire,  but 
later,  encountering  a  fierce  fire  of  musketry,  he  turned  tail  and  bolted 
to  the  rear  a  hundred  yards  or  more. 

I  am  glad  I  did  not  witness  this  disgraceful  fall.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  superb  than  his  bearing  so  long  as  he  was  under  my  eye. 


GETTYSBURG  211 

battle,  he  must  have  been  a  direct  descendant  of  Job's  horse, 
or  Bucephalus,  or  Black  Auster.  I  ne\rer  saw  a  horse's  neck 
so  arched,  his  eye  so  fierce,  his  nostril  so  dilated.  He  fol- 
lowed in  a  trot,  close  upon  the  heels  of  the  battle  line,  his 
head  right  in  among  the  slanting  barrels  and  bayonets,  the 
reins  loose  upon  his  neck,  his  rider  standing  in  his  stirrups, 
bareheaded,  hat  in  hand,  arms  extended,  and,  in  a  voice 
like  a  trumpet,  exhorting  his  men.  It  was  superb ;  abso- 
lutely thrilling.  I  recall  feeling  that  I  would  not  give  so 
much  as  a  dime  to  insure  the  independence  of  the  Con- 
federacy. 

The  loss  of  the  enemy  was  terrific.  General  Butterfield, 
chief  of  staff  of  the  Federal  army,  testifying  before  the 
Committee  on  the  Conduct  of  the  War,  puts  the  total  Fed- 
eral force  engaged  in  this  fight  at  twenty-two  to  twenty- 
four  thousand,  and  Swinton  estimates  their  loss  at  "near  ten 
thousand  men."  Our  loss,  at  least  in  Gordon's  brigade,  was 
slight.  I  distinctly  remember,  in  a  momentary  pause,  calling 
out  to  Gordon,  "General,  where  are  your  dead  men?"  and 
his  reply :  "I  haven't  got  any,  sir ;  the  Almighty  has  cov- 
ered my  men  with  His  shield  and  buckler !"  Later  in  the 
war  General  Ewell  said  to  me  that  he  believed  Gordon's 
brigade  that  evening  put  hors  de  combat  a  greater  number 
of  the  enemy  in  proportion  to  its  own  numbers  than  any 
other  command  on  either  side  ever  did.  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  the  war;  but  he  added  that  he  would  not  be 
misunderstood  as  awarding  this  gallant  brigade  credit  in 
like  proportion,  because  it  simply  turned  the  scale  of  a 
theretofore  evenly-balanced  battle. 

I  cannot  forbear  telling  how,  a  few  months  later,  this 
heroic  scene  was  brought  again  vividly  to  my  mind. 

Happening  to  be  in  Richmond  for  a  few  hours,  I  went 
down  to  a  train  to  aid  in  getting  off  some  wounded  men, 
and  was  helping  to  ease  down  from  a  box-car  a  Georgia  sol- 
dier very  badly  shot.  With  some  difficulty  we  managed  to 
get  him  on  a  litter  and  then  to  lower  him  to  the  platform, 
without  a  jar ;  when,  as  he  was  resting  a  moment,  I  asked  the 
universal  soldier  question,  "What  command  do  you  belong 


212  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

to  ?"  His  pained  and  pallid  face  lit  up  with  a  glow  of  pride 
as  he  answered :  "I  belong  to  Gordon's  old  brigade,  Cap'n. 
Did  you  ever  see  the  Gin'ral  in  battle?  He's  most  the  pret- 
tiest thing  you  ever  did  see  on  a  field  of  fight.  It'ud  put 
fight  into  a  whipped  chicken  just  to  look  at  him." 

My  gun  had  come  again  into  battery  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  town.  No  enemy  was  in  sight  in  our  front;  but  in  an- 
ticipation of  a  sudden  rush  I  had  the  piece  loaded  and  several 
rounds  of  canister  taken  from  the  ammunition  chest  and  put 
down  hard  by  the  gaping  muzzle,  ready  to  sweep  the  street 
in  case  they  should  turn  upon  us.  At  this  moment  little 
George  Greer,  a  chubby  boy  of  sixteen,  rode  on  by  further 
into  the  town.  George  was  General  Early's  clerk  and  a  favor- 
ite with  Old  Jube,  just  because  more  fond  of  riding  courier 
for  him  and  of  driving  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  a  horse  than 
of  driving  pen  across  paper.  I  shouted  a  caution  to  him  as 
he  passed,  but  on  he  went,  disappearing  in  the  smoke  and 
dust  ahead.  In  a  few  moments  a  cloud  of  blue  coats  ap- 
peared in  the  street  in  front  of  us,  coming  on,  too,  at  a  run. 
I  was  about  to  order  the  detachment  to  open  fire,  when  be- 
yond and  back  of  the  men  in  blue  I  noticed  little  Greer,  lean- 
ing forward  over  the  neck  of  his  horse,  towering  above  the 
Federals,  who  were  on  foot;  and  with  violent  gesticulations 
and  in  tones  not  the  gentlest,  ordering  the  "blue  devils"  to 
"double  quick  to  the  rear  of  that  piece,"  which  they  did  in 
the  shortest  time  imaginable.  There  must  have  been  over 
fifty  of  them. 

I  am  aware  this  statement  sounds  incredible,  but  the  men 
had  thrown  away  their  arms  and  were  cowering  in  abject 
terror  in  the  streets  and  alleys.  Upon  no  other  occasion  did 
I  see  any  large  body  of  troops,  on  either  side,  so  completely 
routed  and  demoralized  as  were  the  two  Federal  corps  who 
were  beaten  at  Gettysburg  the  evening  of  July  ist. 

And  this  one  reminds  me  of  other  incidents  of  those  tre- 
mendous moments  when  our  fate  hung  in  the  balance. 

There  was  an  Irishman  named  Burgoyne  in  the  Ninth 
Louisiana, — Harry  Hayes'  brigade, — a  typical  son  of  the 
Emerald  Isle,  over  six  feet  high  in  his  stockings  (when  he 
had  any),  broad-shouldered  and  muscular,  slightly  bow-leg- 


GETTYSBURG  213 

ged,  and  springy  as  a  cat ;  as  full  of  fire  and  fight  and  fun  as 
he  could  hold ;  indeed,  often  a  little  fuller  than  he  could  hold, 
and  never  having  been  known  to  get  his  fill  of  noise  and 
scrimmage.  Whenever  the  Ninth  supported  Hilary  Jones, 
if  the  musketry  fire  slackened  while  the  artillery  was  in  ac- 
tion, Burgoyne  would  slip  over  to  the  nearest  gun  and  take 
someone's  place  at  the  piece. 

Seeing  us  unlimber  in  the  street,  as  above  related,  he 
had  come  over  now  for  this  purpose,  seized  the  sponge-staff 
and  rammed  home  the  charge,  and  was  giving  vent  to  his 
enthusiasm  in  screams  and  bounds  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  a  catamount. 

Standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  gun,  with  his  arms 
folded,  was  a  Federal  Irishman,  a  prisoner  just  captured — 
a  man  even  taller  than  Burgoyne  and  somewhat  heavier  in 
frame,  altogether  a  magnificent  fellow.  Catching  Bur- 
goyne' s  brogue,  he  broke  out — 

"Hey,  ye  spalpane !  say,  what  are  yez  doing  in  the  Ribil 
army?" 

Quick  as  a  flash,  Burgoyne  retorted : 

"Be-dad,  ain't  an  Irishman  a  freeman?  Haven't  I  as 
good  right  to  fight  for  the  Ribs  as  ye  have  to  fight  for  the 
Yanks?" 

"O,  yes !"  sang  out  the  Federal  Irishman,  "I  know  ye, 
now  you've  turned  your  ougly  mug  to  me.  I  had  the  plizure 
of  kicking  yez  out  from  behind  Marye's  wall,  that  time 
Sedgwick  lammed  yer  brigade  out  o'  there !" 

"Yer  a liar,"  shouted  our  Pat,  "and  I'll  jist  knock 

yer  teeth  down  yer  ougly  throat  for  that  same  lie,"  and  suit- 
ing the  action  to  the  word,  he  vaulted  lightly  over  the  gun, 
and  before  we  had  time  to  realize  the  extreme  absurdity  of 
the  thing,  the  two  had  squared  off  against  each  other  in  the 
most  approved  style  and  the  first  blow  had  passed,  for  the- 
Federal  Irishman  was  as  good  grit  as  ours. 

Just  as  the  two  giants  were  about  to  rush  to  close  quar- 
ters, but  before  any  blood  had  been  drawn  in  the  round,  I 
noticed  that  the  right  fist  of  the  Federal  gladiator  was  gory, 
and  the  next  movement  revealed  the  stumps  of  two  shat- 
tered fingers,  which  he  was  about  to  drive  full  into  Bur- 
goyne's  face. 


214  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

"Hold!"  I  cried;  "your  man's  wounded!"  On  the  in- 
stant Burgoyne's  fists  fell. 

"You're  a  trump,  Pat;  give  me  your  well  hand,"  said  he. 
"We'll  fight  this  out  some  other  time.  I  didn't  see  ye  were 
hurt." 

Just  as  this  intensest  climax  of  the  great  battle  was  hap- 
pily avoided,  a  member  of  General  Early's  staff — I  thought 
it  was  Major  Daniel,  but  he  says  not — galloped  by,  and 
shouted,  "Lieutenant,  limber  to  the  rear !" 

'To  the  front,  you  mean,  Major!" 

"No,"  came  the  answer,  to  the  rear!" 

"All  right,  boys,"  said  I,  "I  reckon  the  town's  barricaded, 
and  we'll  just  pass  round  it  to  the  front." 

But,  no.  Back,  back,  we  went,  for  perhaps  a  mile  or  more, 
and  took  position  on  a  hill  from  which,  next  morning,  we 
gazed  upon  the  earthworks  which  had  sprung  up  in  the 
night  on  Cemetery  Ridge,  and  the  tide,  which  taken  at  the 
flood  might  have  led  on  to  overwhelming  victory  and  even 
to  independence,  had  ebbed  away  forever.  So  it  looked  to 
me  then,  and  nothing  I  have  read  or  heard  since  has  altered 
the  impressions  of  that  moment. 

It  is  my  nature  to  be  reverential  toward  rightful  author- 
ity and  not  to  question  the  wisdom  of  its  decisions;  but  on 
this  occasion  I  chafed  and  rebelled  until  it  almost  made  me 
ill.  I  was  well  nigh  frenzied  by  what  appeared  to  me  to  be 
the  folly,  the  absolute  fatuity  of  delay.  One  point  must  be 
cleared  up.  It  has  been  suggested  that  General  Lee  himself 
was  responsible ;  that,  coming  late  upon  the  field,  he  for- 
bade the  advance  which  his  lieutenant  would  have  made. 
Mr.  Swinton  goes  so  far  as  to  say  unqualifiedly  that  "Ewell 
was  even  advancing  a  line  against  Culp's  Hill  when  Lee 
reached  the  field  and  stayed  the  movement."  Nothing 
could  be  less  like  Lee  and  nothing  further  from  the  truth. 
Colonel  Taylor  makes  this  full  and  explicit  statement : 

General  Lee  witnessed  the  flight  of  the  Federals  through  Gettysburg 
and  up  the  hills  beyond.  He  then  directed  me  to  go  to  General  Ewell 
and  say  to  him  that,  from  the  position  which  he  occupied,  he  could  see 
the  enemy  retreating  over  those  hills,  without  organization  and  in  great 
confusion ;  that  it  was  only  necessary  to  press  "those  people"  in  order  to 


GETTYSBURG  215 

secure  possession  of  the  heights,  and  that,  if  possible,  he  wished  him  to 
do  this.  In  obedience  to  these  instructions  I  proceeded  immediately  to 
General  Ewell  and  delivered  the  order  of  General  Lee;  and  after  receiv- 
ing from  him  some  message  for  the  commanding  general  in  regard  to 
the  prisoners  captured,  returned  to  the  latter  and  reported  that  his  order 
had  been  delivered. 

At  this  time  I  admired  General  Ewell  as  a  soldier;  later 
I  loved  him  as  a  man,  and  he  treated  me  with  more  in- 
formal and  affectionate  kindness  than  any  other  of  our 
leading  generals  ever  did.  But  the  truth  must  be  told,  and 
Ewell  was  the  last  man  on  earth  to  object  to  this.  Colonel 
Taylor  speaks  of  the  discretion  General  Lee  always  ac- 
corded to  his  lieutenants.  In  the  exercise  of  this  discre- 
tion, Ewell  probably  decided  it  best  not  to  press  his  ad- 
vantage on  the  evening  of  July  ist.  Why,  we  do  not  know; 
at  least  I  do  not  recall  any  statement  from  him  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  his  lips  are  now  sealed.  I  ask  no  judgment  against 
him,  but  only  that  General  Lee's  skirts  should  be  cleared  of 
responsibility  for  the  failure  to  go  right  on  that  evening  and 
occupy  the  heights. 

It  is  also  undeniably  true,  that  Lee  desired  and  purposed 
to  renew  the  attack,  in  full  force,  at  daylight  next  morning, 
the  morning  of  July  2d,  but  was  again  thwarted  by  lack  of 
prompt  and  vigorous  co-operation  among  his  generals.  This 
book  being  in  the  main  a  record  of  personal  reminiscence,  I 
do  not  care  to  go  into  the  details  of  these  various  and  desul- 
tory movements  and  failures  to  move,  until  some  time,  I 
think  early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second,  when  I  was 
brought  again  in  personal  touch  with  the  matter  and  ulti- 
mately into  one  of  the  most  tremendous  experiences  of  my 
life. 

As  I  remember,  about  the  time  mentioned,  two  of  Early's 
brigades,  Gordon's  being  one,  we're  sent  off  to  watch  the 
York  road  and  a  suspicious-looking  body  of  troops  which 
had  appeared  and  disappeared  in  that  direction,  say  two 
miles  to  the  left,  and  which  threatened  the  left  flank  and 
rear  of  Edward  Johnson's  division,  which  was  our  extreme 
left,  and  under  orders  to  take  part  in  a  general  advance 
against  the  enemy.     Gordon  was  in  command  of  this  little 


2l6  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

army  of  observation,  and  as  I  was  mounted  and  relished  the 
idea  of  a  scout  and  the  prospect  of  adventure,  I  joined  the 
expedition. 

When  we  reached  our  objective  we  readily  satisfied  our- 
selves that  no  danger  boded  from  this  direction,  and  that 
the  troops  we  had  regarded  with  suspicion  were  not  hostile. 
We  did  not  come  into  absolute  contact  with  them, — we 
could  not  wait  for  that, — but  my  recollection  is  that  they 
proved  to  be  the  advance  of  Stuart's  cavalry,  which  had 
just  come  up,  and  were  really  doing  just  what  we  had  come 
to  do,  that  is,  guarding  our  left  flank  and  rear. 

After  making  this  discovery,  the  point  was  to  get  word 
to  Johnson  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  that  he  could 
press  on,  feeling  no  uneasiness  about  his  flanks.  Not  a  mem- 
ber of  Gordon's  staff  was  with  him — all  were  off  on  various 
errands.  Captain  Mitchell  came  up  at  the  moment,  but  both 
he  and  his  horse  were  exhausted,  utterly  unfit  for  such  a  ride 
as  this.  The  General  called  for  volunteers,  mounted  officers, 
to  take  the  message — two,  I  think ;  one  to  go  around  a  longer 
and  safer  way,  but  one  to  cut  right  across,  or  rather,  as  his 
course  would  be  after  the  first  quarter  of  a  mile,  directly  in 
the  teeth  of  the  artillery  fire,  which  was  sweeping  the  ap- 
proaches to  the  Federal  position  from  our  left. 

I  offered  to  take  this  latter  ride  and  do  my  best  to  get 
word  to  General  Johnson  promptly.  The  General  thanked 
me,  and  off  I  dashed,  braced,  as  I  thought,  for  anything, 
yet  little  dreaming  what  the  ride  would  really  be. 

For  the  first  few  hundred  yards,  as  above  suggested,  the 
configuration  of  the  ground  was  such  that  the  fire  was  en- 
tirely cut  off — not  so  much  as  even  one  stray  shell  whistled 
above  my  head.  But  in  a  few  moments,  as  I  rose  a  hill  and 
my  course  veered  to  the  left,  I  struck  a  well-defined  serial 
current,  a  meteoric  stream,  of  projectiles  and  explosions, 
and  I  felt  my  little  horse  shudder  and  squat  under  me,  and 
then  he  made  one  frantic  effort  to  turn  and  fly.  I  pulled  him 
fiercely  back  against  the  iron  torrent  until  he  breasted  it 
squarely  and  then,  seeming  to  realize  the  requirements  of  the 
position,  he  elongated  and  flattened  himself  as  much  as 
possible,  while  I  lay  as  close  to  him  as  I  could,  and  we 
fairly  devoured  the  way. 


GETTYSBURG  217 

One  of  the  horrors  of  the  thing,  during  a  large  part  of  the 
ride,  was  that  I  could  see  almost  every  shell  that  passed,  as 
they  were  coming  straight  toward  me,  and  their  propulsive 
force  was  pretty  well  exhausted.  As  I  approached  the 
points  at  which  the  fire  was  directed,  while  I  could  not  see 
so  large  a  proportion  of  the  shells,  and  this  strain  was  of 
course  diminished,  yet  the  number  of  projectiles  and  explo- 
sions increased — until  at  last  there  was  absolutely  no  separa- 
tion between  the  reports,  but  the  air  was  rent  by  one  continu- 
ous shriek  of  shell  and  roar  of  explosion,  and  torn  with 
countless  myriads  of  hurtling  fragments. 

When  a  man  is  undergoing  an  experience  like  this  he  does 
not  think — his  entire  conscious  being  is  concentrated  upon 
the  one  point  of  endurance.  But  unconsciously,  inadvert- 
ently, he  may  receive  powerful  impressions  and  bear  away 
with  him  vivid  and  unfading  mental  photographs. 

I  have  borne  with  me  ever  since,  in  my  recollections  of  this 
ride,  three  pictures.  The  first  is  a  silhouette  of  my  little 
horse  and  me  as  we  sped  on  our  perilous  way.  I  put  him 
first  because  he  did  it,  I  only  endured.  After  his  first  shy  he 
never  shrank  or  swerved  again,  but  held  to  his  course 
straight  and  swift  as  a  greyhound;  nay,  as  an  arrow  flies. 
He  seemed  to  be  possessed,  whether  intelligently  or  instinc- 
tively, of  the  double  purpose  of  making  himself  small  and 
getting  there.  His  figure  was  that  of  a  running  hare — low 
to  the  ground,  with  her  ears  laid  flat  and  every  limb  stretch- 
ed; while  I  was  nothing  but  the  smallest  possible  projection 
above  his  back  and  along  his  flanks. 

I  am  not  satisfied  whether  this  is  purely  a  mental  and  in- 
ferential picture,  or  whether,  as  I  incline  to  think,  my  eye, 
in  an  involuntary  sidelong  glance,  caught  our  shadow  as  we 
flew.  But  of  this  I  am  satisfied — that,  in  all  the  years  since, 
the  battle  of  Gettysburg  has  never  obtruded  itself  upon  my 
mental  vision  that  this  strange  figure,  of  horse  and  man  blent 
together  into  one  by  the  terrible  tension,  has  not  been  the 
frontispiece. 

The  next  picture  is  of  Latimer's  Battalion,  which,  with 
splendid  pluck  but  little  judgment,  had  engaged  in  a  most 
unequal  artillery  duel  with  the  Federal  batteries  massed  upon 
Cemetery  Ridge  and  Culp's  Hill.     Never,  before  or  after, 


2l8  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

did  I  see  fifteen  or  twenty  guns  in  such  a  condition  of  wreck 
and  destruction  as  this  battalion  was.  It  had  been  hurled 
backward,  as  it  were,  by  the  very  weight  and  impact  of  metal 
from  the  position  it  had  occupied  on  the  crest  of  a  little 
ridge,  into  a  saucer-shaped  depression  behind  it ;  and  such  a 
scene  as  it  presented — guns  dismounted  and  disabled,  car- 
riages splintered  and  crushed,  ammunition  chests  exploded, 
limbers  upset,  wounded  horses  plunging  and  kicking,  dash- 
ing out  the  brains  of  men  tangled  in  the  harness ;  while  can- 
noneers With  pistols  were  crawling  around  through  the 
wreck  shooting  the  struggling  horses  to  save  the  lives  of  the 
wounded  men. 

I  said  the  little  horse  did  not  again  swerve  from  his 
course.  He  was  compelled  to  do  so  at  this  point,  as  it  was 
impracticable  to  ride  through  the  battalion,  which  lay  di- 
rectly in  our  track;  but  we  had  a  full  view  of  it  as  we  fol- 
lowed the  higher  ground  from  which  it  had  been  driven. 

The  third  and  last  picture  connected  with  my  desperate 
ride  is  of  the  finish  and  of  the  doughty  division  commander 
in  whose  behalf  I  had  taken  it.  He  was  sometimes  called 
"Alleghany  Johnson"  and  "Fence-Rail  Johnson,"  because 
of  his  having  been  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Alleghany,  and, 
in  consequence,  walking  with  a  very  perceptible  limp  and 
aiding  the  process  with  a  staff  about  as  long  as  a  rail  and 
almost  as  thick  as  the  club  of  Giant  Despair.  He  was  a 
heavy,  thick-set  man,  and  when  I  saw  him  was  on  foot  and 
hobbling  along  with  the  help  of  this  gigantic  walking-cane. 
It  was  toward  the  gloaming  and  I  did  not  see  him  very  dis- 
tinctly, but  remember  that  when  I  gasped  out  the  message  I 
bore  from  Gordon,  he  simply  growled  back,  "Very  well, 
sir" — and,  my  responsibility  discharged,  I  dropped  from  the 
saddle  to  the  ground,  the  last  thing  I  remember  being  my 
little  horse  standing  over  me,  his  sides  heaving  and  panting 
and  his  head  drooping  and  sinking  until  his  muzzle  almost 
touched  my  body.  How  long  I  lay  and  he  stood  there,  or 
where  we  went  after  we  recovered  breath  and  motion,  I  have 
not  the  faintest  recollection. 

Johnson's  attack  was  made  not  long  before  dark,  but  it 
was  not  vigorously  supported,  except  by  two  of  Early's 
brigades,  and  it  failed  to  accomplish  any  important  result. 


GETTYSBURG  2IO, 

I  was  not  in  any  way  personally  connected  with  the  main 
operations  of  the  next  day,  July  3d,  the  last  day  of  the  great 
battle.  That  was  a  matter  primarily  of  Longstreet's  corps,  a 
part  of  Hill's  acting  as  support  to  his  attack.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, not  enter  into  the  hotly-debated  question  of  responsi- 
bility for  the  failure  of  the  Confederate  assault,  nor  indulge 
in  any  heroics  over  its  gallantry. 

Nor  shall  I  discuss  the  question  which  side  is  entitled  to 
claim  the  victory.  It  is  clear  that  the  Confederates  retired 
first  from  the  field,  but  they  did  not  do  so  until  the  5th  of 
July,  the  rear  guard  leaving  late  on  that  day,  and  even  then 
they  were  not  pursued.  General  Sickles,  before^the  Com- 
mittee on  the  Conduct  of  the  War,  testified  that  the  reason 
the  Confederates  were  not  followed  up  was  a  difference  of 
opinion  among  the  Federal  generals  whether  their  army 
should  not  retreat;  that  "it  was  by  no  means  clear,  in  the 
judgment  of  the  corps  commanders,  or  of  the  general  in  com- 
mand, whether  they  had  won  or  not." 

There  is  but  one  other  scene  of  the  battle-field  which  I 
care  to  mention,  and  that  only  for  a  reason  already  touched 
upon  in  a  like  connection,  namely,  to  give  to  those  who  had 
no  actual  experience  of  war  some  approximate  conception 
of  the  variety  and  extravagance  of  horrors  which  the  soldier 
is  called  upon,  from  time  to  time,  to  undergo. 

On  the  4th  of  July,  in  readjusting  and  straightening  our 
lines,  the  guns  of  Hilary  Jones'  battalion  were  put  in  posi- 
tion on  a  part  of  the  field  which  Hill's  corps  had  fought  over 
on  the  1st,  and  upon  which  the  pioneer  corps  and  burying 
parties  had  not  been  able  to  complete  their  work ;  so  that  the 
dead  bodies  of  men  and  horses  had  lain  there  putrefying 
under  the  summer  sun  for  three  days.  The  sights  and  smells 
that  assailed  us  were  simply  indescribable — corpses  swollen 
to  twice  their  original  size,  some  of  them  actually  burst 
asunder  with  the  pressure  of  foul  gases  and  vapors.  I  recall 
one  feature  never  before  noted,  the  shocking  distension  and 
protrusion  of  the  eyeballs  of  dead  men  and  dead  horses. 
Several  human  or  unhuman  corpses  sat  upright  against  a 
fence,  with  arms  extended  in  the  air  and  faces  hideous  with 


220  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

something  very  like  a  fixed  leer,  as  if  taking  a  fiendish 
pleasure  in  showing  us  what  we  essentially  were  and  might  at 
any  moment  become.  The  odors  were  nauseating,  and  so 
deadly  that  in  a  short  time  we  all  sickened  and  were  lying 
with  our  mouths  close  to  the  ground,  most  of  us  vomiting 
profusely.  We  protested  against  the  cruelty  and  folly  of 
keeping  men  in  such  a  position.  Of  course  to  fight  in  it  was 
utterly  out  of  the  question,  and  we  were  soon  moved  away ; 
but  for  the  rest  of  that  day  and  late  into  the  night  the  fearful 
odors  I  had  inhaled  remained  with  me  and  made  me  loathe 
myself  as  if  an  already  rotting  corpse. 

While  a  prisoner  at  Johnson's  Island,  in  the  spring  of 
'65,  I  became  much  interested  in  one  of  my  fellow-prisoners, 
a  Major  McDaniel,  of  Georgia.  He  did  not  at  first  strike 
one  as  an  impressive  man.  Indeed,  if  I  recollect  rightly,  he 
had  somewhat  of  an  impediment  in  his  speech  and  was  not 
inclined  to  talk  much ;  but  there  was  a  peculiar  pith  and 
point  and  weight  in  what  he  did  say,  and  those  who  knew 
him  best  seemed  to  regard  him  as  a  man  of  mark  and  to 
treat  him  with  the  greatest  respect.  The  impression  he 
made  upon  me  was  of  simplicity  and  directness,  good  sense 
and  good  character,  dignity,  gravity,  decorum.  They  told 
me  this  surprising  story  of  him : 

He  was  seriously  wounded  at  Gettysburg,  and,  of  course, 
in  the  hospital.  His  friends  who  had  been  captured  and  were 
about  to  be  marched  off  to  prison,  came  in  to  bid  him  good- 
by ;  but  he  declared  he  would  not  be  left  behind,  that  he  could 
and  would  go  with  them.  Both  his  comrades  and  the  Fed- 
eral surgeons  and  nurses,  who  were  kind  and  attentive,  pro- 
tested that  this  was  absolutely  out  of  the  question — that  he 
would  die  on  the  road. 

"Very  good,"  said  McDaniel,  "I'll  die  then.  I  am  cer- 
tainly going,  and  if  you  don't  bring  a  litter  and  put  me  on  it 
and  carry  me,  then  I  will  simply  get  up  and  walk  till  I 
drop." 

Finally  the  surgeons  yielded,  saying  that,  in  his  condition, 
it  would  be  as  fatal  to  confine  him  forcibly  in  bed  as  to  lift 
him  out  and  attempt  to  transport  him;  that  either  course 
was  certain  death.     So  the  litter  was  brought,  he  was  placed 


GETTYSBURG  221 

upon  it,  his  friends  sadly  took  hold  of  the  bearing  poles  and 
started,  feeling  that  the  marching  column  of  prisoners  was 
really  McDaniel's  funeral  procession. 

The  journey  would  have  been  trying  enough,  even  for  a 
sound,  strong  man,  but  for  one  in  McDaniel's  condition  it 
was  simply  fearful.  Why  he  did  not  die  they  could  not  see, 
yet  he  did  seem  to  grow  weaker  and  weaker,  until  at  last,  as 
the  column  halted  in  a  little  Pennsylvania  town  and  his 
bearers  put  the  litter  gently  down  in  the  shade,  his  eyes  were 
closed,  his  face  deadly  pale,  and  the  majority  of  those  about 
him  thought  he  was  gone.  The  whole  population  was  in  the 
streets  to  see  the  Rebel  prisoners  go  by,  and  some  stared, 
with  gaping  curiosity,  at  the  dead  man  on  the  stretcher. 

His  most  intimate  friend,  Colonel  Nesbit,  stood  nearest, 
keeping  a  sort  of  guard  over  him,  and  just  as  he  made  up 
his  mind  to  examine  and  see  if  it  was  indeed  all  over,  Mc- 
Daniel  opened  his  eyes,  and  then  beckoned  feebly  for  Nesbit 
to  come  close  to  him.  As  he  reached  his  side  and  bent  over 
him,  McDaniel  took  hold  upon  the  lapel  of  Nesbit's  coat 
and  drew  him  yet  closer  down,  until  their  faces  well  nigh 
touched,  and  then,  with  a  great  effort  and  in  a  voice  scarcely 
audible,  McDaniel  whispered  his  name — "Nesbit!" 

Nesbit  says  he  confidently  expected  some  last  message  for 
his  family,  or  some  tender  farewell  to  his  friends,  when, 
with  extreme  difficulty,  his  supposed-to-be-dying  friend, 
pointing  with  trembling  finger,  uttered  just  these  words : 

"Nesbit,  old  fellow !  Did  you  ever  see  such  an  ungodly 
pair  of  ankles  as  that  Dutch  woman  standing  over  there  on 
that  porch  has  got?" 

Of  course  such  a  man  could  not  be  killed  and  would  not 
die;  and  it  was  not  a  matter  of  surprise  to  me  when,  a  few 
years  later,  he  was  elected  Governor  of  Georgia  by  a  hun- 
dred thousand  majority. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BETWEEN   GETTYSBURG   AND   THE   WILDERNESS 

Lee  Orders  His  Generals  of  Division  to  Report  the  Condition  of  Their 
Troops — McLaws  Makes  the  Rounds  of  His  Division — Back  in  the 
Old  Dominion — Tuck  and  Marse  Robert,  Dragon  and  Logan — Meade 
an  Able  and  Wary  Opponent — The  Homes  of  the  People  Within 
the  Lines  of  the  Army — A  Preacher- Captain  Metes  Out  Stern  and 
Speedy  Justice — Lee  Smarting  Under  the  Tete-de-pont  Disaster — 
Pegram  Meets  Two  of  His  Old  Troopers — Mine  Run — Mickey 
Free  and  the  Persimmons — Horses  Under  Artillery  Fire — Two  Im- 
portant Movements  of  the  Federal  Forces. 

I  confess  I  have  not  read  current  war  literature  very 
closely,  but  certainly  I  have  never  seen,  in  any  publication, 
any  allusion  to  what  is  related  below ;  indeed  I  cannot  recall 
any  mention  of  it  even  in  conversation  with  comrades — and 
yet  my  recollection  of  what  transpired  is  clear  and  vivid. 

Much  has  been  said,  and  justly,  of  the  unshaken  condi- 
tion of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  when  it  retired 
from  the  Federal  front  at  Gettysburg;  and  yet  it  is  equally 
true  that  army  had  been  through  a  most  trying  experience, 
and  as  it  was  still  in  hostile  territory  and  a  swollen  and  at 
the  time  impassable  river  flowed  between  it  and  the  friendly 
soil  of  Old  Virginia,  Lee  had  great  cause  for  anxiety,  and 
it  behooved  him  to  be  thoroughly  informed  and  certified  as 
to  the  real  condition  and  spirit  of  his  troops.  With  this  view 
he  directed  his  generals,  particularly  his  generals  of  division, 
to  make  prompt  and  thorough  investigation  in  this  regard, 
and  to  report  results  to  him.  McLaws,  our  division  gen- 
eral, made  a  special  tour  around  the  camp  fires  of  his  men 
one  evening,  while  we  were  in  line  of  battle  at  Hagerstown, 
Md.,  waiting  for  Meade  to  attack,  or  for  the  Potomac  to 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND   THE    WILDERNESS         223 

fall,  so  that  we  might  in  safety  cross  it,  and  I  was  at  special 
pains  to  follow,  and  to  see  and  hear  what  I  could. 

McLaws  was  rather  a  peculiar  personality.  He  certainly 
could  not  be  called  an  intellectual  man,  nor  was  he  a  bril- 
liant and  aggressive  soldier ;  but  he  was  regarded  as  one  of 
the  most  dogged  defensive  fighters  in  the  army.  His  entire 
make-up,  physical,  mental  and  moral,  was  solid,  even  stolid. 
In  figure  he  was  short,  stout,  square-shouldered,  deep-chest- 
ed, strong-limbed;  in  complexion,  dark  and  swarthy,  with 
coal-black  eyes  and  black,  thick,  close-curling  hair  and  beard. 
Of  his  type,  he  was  a  handsome  man,  but  the  type  was  that 
of  the  Roman  centurion ;  say  that  centurion  who  stood  at  his 
post  in  Herculaneum  until  the  lava  ran  over  him.  It  should 
be  mentioned  in  his  honor  that  when  General  Lee,  with  scant 
14,000  muskets,  held  the  front  of  Hooker's  92,000  at  Chan- 
cellorsville,  McLaws  commanded  one  of  the  two  divisions  he 
had  with  him. 

He  was  a  Georgian,  and  his  division,  consisting  of  two 
Georgia  brigades,  one  from  South  Carolina  and  one  from 
Mississippi,  was  as  stalwart  and  reliable  as  any  in  the  serv- 
ice. Nothing  of  course  could  repress  our  Mississippians, 
but  the  general  effect  and  influence  of  the  man  upon  his 
command  was  clearly  manifest  in  the  general  tenor  of  the 
responses  he  elicited.  His  men  were  respectful,  but  not 
enthusiastic  on  this  occasion.  For  the  most  part  they  kept 
right  on  with  what  they  happened  to  be  doing  when  the 
General  arrived — cooking,  cleaning  their  arms  and  accoutre- 
ments, or  whatever  else  it  might  be.  He  was  on  horseback, 
riding,  as  I  remember,  a  small,  white  pony-built  horse,  and 
as  he  rode  up  into  the  circle  of  flickering  light  of  camp  fire 
after  camp  fire  to  talk  with  the  men,  he  made  quite  a  marked 
and  notable  figure.  The  conversation  ran  somewhat  in  this 
line: 

"Well,  boys,  how  are  you?" 

"We  are  all  right,  General !" 

"They  say  there  are  lots  of  those  fellows  over  the  way 
there." 

"Well,  they  can  stay  there;  we  ain't  offerin'  to  disturb 
'em.     We've  had  all  the  fighting  we  want  just  now;  but  if 


224  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

they  ain't  satisfied  and  want  any  more,  all  they've  got  to  do 
is  to  come  over  and  get  their  bellies  full." 

"Suppose  they  do  come,  sure  enough,  boys.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  them?" 

"Why,  just  make  the  ground  blue  with  'em,  that's  all; 
just  manure  this  here  man's  land  with  'em.  We  ain't  asking 
anything  of  them,  but  if  they  want  anything  of  us,  why,  just 
let  'em  come  after  it,  and  they  can  get  all  they  want;  but 
they'll  wish  they  hadn't  come." 

"Well,  now,  I  can  rely  upon  that,  can  I  ?" 

"You  just  bet  your  life  you  can,  General.  If  we're  asleep 
when  they  come,  you  just  have  us  waked  up,  and  we'll  re- 
ceive 'em  in  good  style." 

"Well,  good-night,  boys.    I'm  satisfied." 

McLaws'  "boys"  had  no  occasion  upon  that  field  to  vin- 
dicate their  own  account  of  themselves.  The  enemy  did  not 
attack,  the  river  did  fall,  and  we  returned  to  our  own  side 
of  the  Potomac,  but  not  until  the  13th  of  July.  The  day  we 
got  there,  or  perhaps  the  day  following,  "Tuck,"  the  re- 
doubtable wagon  driver  of  the  old  battery,  had  a  memorable 
experience  which  he  never  tired  of  telling. 

Tuck  was  a  unique  character.  Up  to  the  date  of  his  en- 
listment his  horizon  had  been  perhaps  more  contracted  and 
his  opportunities  fewer  and  lower  than  those  of  any  other 
man  among  us.  Naturally  he  gravitated  to  the  wagon ;  but 
the  man  made  the  position.  He  was  so  quiet  and  steady  and 
perfect  in  the  discharge  of  its  humble  duties,  that  I  ques- 
tion whether  there  was  another  private  soldier  in  the  battery 
as  useful,  or  one  more  universally  liked  and  respected,  and 
he  was  as  loyal  and  devoted  to  the  company  and  his  com- 
rades as  they  were  to  him.  He  had  a  fine  pair  of  mules,  and 
his  affection  for  them  amounted  almost  to  a  passion.  In- 
deed, his  entire  outfit — mules,  harness  and  wagon — was  al- 
ways in  better  condition  than  any  other  I  ever  saw  in  the 
army,  and  if  there  was  forage  or  food,  for  man  or  beast, 
to  be  had  anywhere,  Tuck  was  sure  to  get  at  least  our  share 
for  us. 

As  above  said,  it  was  the  very  day  we  reached  the  soil  of 
old  Virginia,  or  the  day  after,  that  Tuck,  or  Tucker, — I  be- 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND   THE   WILDERNESS         225 

lieve  the  latter  was  really  his  name, — was  dragging  along 
with  his  wagon,  through  the  mud  and  mist,  considerably  in 
rear  of  the  battery,  grieving  that  his  two  faithful  mules  had 
gone  supperless  to  bed  the  last  night  and  taken  breakfastless 
to  the  road  that  morning,  when,  glancing  to  the  left,  his  eye 
lit  upon  a  luxuriant  field  of  grass  he  was  just  passing,  and 
there,  right  abreast  of  his  wagon,  was  an  enticing  set  of 
draw-bars. 

On  the  instant  he  turned  out  to  the  side  of  the  road,  un- 
hitched his  mules,  and  taking  them  by  their  long,  strong  hal- 
ter reins — the  best  I  ever  saw  upon  the  harness  of  an  army 
team — let  down  the  bars  and  led  them  into  the  field,  and  was 
enjoying  their  breakfast  as  much  perhaps  as  the  mules  were, 
when  a  fine-looking  officer,  with  a  rubber  cape  over  his 
shoulders,  rode  up  to  the  fence  and  said  in  a  kindly,  pleasant 
voice : 

"My  man,  I  like  that.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  taking  such 
good  care  of  your  mules,  and  they  like  it,  too.  What  a  fine 
breakfast  they  are  making !    They  are  fine  mules,  too !" 

"What,  my  mules  ?  You  bet  they  are  fine !  Marse  Robert 
ain't  got  no  better  mules  in  his  army  than  these  two." 

"What  are  their  names  ?" 

"This  here  gray  one,  he's  named  Dragon,  and  that  'ere 
black  one,  his  name's  Logan.  Dragon,  he's  a  leetle  the  best 
of  the  two,  but  either  one  of  'em's  good  enough." 

"Yes  indeed,  I  can  well  believe  that,  and  I  am  glad  to 
see  you  taking  such  good  care  of  this  man's  property,  too; 
keeping  your  mules  in  hand  with  the  lines.  I  wish  all  the 
drivers  in  the  army  were  as  careful  of  their  teams  and  of 
other  people's  property  as  you  are.  Now  this  is  all  right,  but 
I  wouldn't  stay  here  too  long.  There  are  some  gentlemen  in 
blue,  back  here  on  the  road  a  little  way;  and — " 

"What's  that !  the  damn  Yankees  coming  ?  Come,  Dragon, 
come,  Logan,  we  must  git  out  o'  this !" 

"O,  I  wouldn't  be  in  quite  such  a  hurry.  There  is  no 
danger  yet  awhile.  Let  them  finish  their  breakfast.  I  only 
meant — " 

"No,  sir;  I  ain't  taking  no  chances.  The  infernal  Yankees 
sha'n't  never  git  my  mules !     Come  on  here,  Dragon  and 


226  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Logan," — leading  them  toward  the  bars, — "we  must  git  out 
o'  this,  and  mighty  quick,  too!" 

As  he  got  his  pets  out  in  the  road  and  was  hitching  them 
up  again,  Colonel  Taylor  and  Colonel  Marshall  and  the  rest 
of  General  Lee's  staff  rode  up  and  reported  to  Tuck's  friend 
and  took  orders  from  him,  and  Tuck  waked  up  to  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  talking  with  Marse  Robert  himself  for  the 
last  five  minutes. 

"Great  Scott !"  said  he,  in  relating  his  adventure,  "I  felt 
that  I  had  been  more  impudent  than  the  devil  himself,  and 
I  wanted  to  get  out  o'  sight  as  fast  as  ever  I  could;  but  I 
didn't  feel  like  letting  no  common  man  speak  to  me  for  two 
or  three  days  after  that." 

There  is  a  delicious  sequel  to  this  story,  which  seems  too 
good  to  be  true,  and  yet  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  it  is 
as  true  as  it  is  good. 

When  the  final  collapse  came,  Tuck,  Dragon  and  Logan 
were  down  in  North  Carolina,  where  they  had  been  many  a 
time  before,  foraging  for  themselves  and  the  rest  of  us — 
horses  and  men.  The  returning  train  of  heavily-loaded 
wagons,  inadequately  protected,  was  attacked  by  Federal 
raiders.  The  shooting,  plundering,  and  burning  was  going 
on  front  and  rear  and  rapidly  approaching  from  both  direc- 
tions. So  Tuck  halted  his  wagon,  got  out  all  the  provisions 
he  could  carry  for  himself  and  them,  unhitched  Dragon  and 
Logan,  and  took  to  the  woods,  and  he  kept  going  until  he 
got  so  far  away  that  the  braying  of  his  companions  could 
not  be  heard  from  the  road.  Then  he  made  himself  com- 
fortable by  the  side  of  a  little  stream  and  awaited  develop- 
ments. 

The  next  day  it  rained  and  he  kept  close,  but  the  day  fol- 
lowing was  bright  and  clear,  and  he  took  an  early  morning 
scout  to  "the  big  road."  There  was  the  blackened  debris  of 
burnt  wagons,  but  there  had  not  been  a  track  upon  the  road 
since  the  rain,  and  Tuck  concluded  that  the  coast  was  clear. 
So  he  went  back  to  his  bivouac,  mounted  Dragon  and,  lead- 
ing Logan,  returned  to  the  road  and  took  the  direction  of 
Richmond. 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND    THE    WILDERNESS         227 

At  last  he  emerged  from  the  dank,  sombre  pine  forest  into 
a  clearing,  where  was  a  comfortable  farm  house,  and  not 
far  from  the  woods  he  ran  upon  an  old  fellow  seated  on  the 
top  rail  of  an  old  Virginia  snake  fence,  with  his  spinal 
column  comfortably  supported  by  one  of  the  cross  stakes,  a 
short-stemmed,  blackened  corncob  pipe  in  his  mouth,  his 
neglected,  stubby  beard  bristling  all  over  his  face,  and  his 
entire  figure  and  bearing  expressive  of  ill-temper  and  despair. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Tuck. 

"Monrin',"  responded  the  old  chap. 

"Seen  anything  of  the  Yankees?" 

"Yes,  the  inferrfal  thieves  cleaned  me  out  day  before  yes- 
tiddy." 

"What's  that  plow  doiu  standing  in  that  'ere  furrow?" 

"Why,  the  damn  Yankees  stole  the  mules  right  out  of  it. 
Didn't  leave  me  a  hide  or  hoof  on  the  place." 

"I've  got  a  good  pair  of  mules  here,"  said  Tuck. 

"Well,  go  there  to  the  gate,  come  right  in  and  hitch  up, 
and  we'll  go  snacks  on  the  crap." 

The  bargain  was  closed  as  promptly  as  proposed.  Tuck 
plowed  until  the  dinner  horn  blew.  Then  he  and  Dragon 
and  Logan  went  to  the  sound  of  it,  as  if  they  had  been  "bred 
and  born"  on  the  place.  Tuck  watered  and  fed  his  mules  at 
the  stable  and  himself  at  the  house,  touching  his  hat  to  the 
old  man's  pretty  daughter  as  he  entered. 

In  due  course  of  time  he  married  her,  and  he  owns  that 
farm  to-day. 

Thus  the  house  of  Tucker  rode  into  home  and  fortune 
upon  "my  mules,"  which  its  illustrious  founder  swore  "the 
infernal  Yankees  sha  n't  never  git !" 

Some  little  time  since,  in  a  conversation  with  Mr.  George 
Cary  Eggleston,  he  remarked  that,  years  ago,  perhaps  dur- 
ing the  war,  I  mentioned  to  him  an  estimate  of  General 
Meade  which  I  had  heard  General  Lee  express,  about  the 
time  of  Meade's  appointment  to  succeed  Hooker  in  command 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  I  do  not  now  quite  see  how 
I  could  have  overheard  the  remark  precisely  at  the  time  indi- 
cated, but  I  have  no  doubt  the  story,  as  far  as  Lee's  es- 
timate of  Meade  is  concerned,  is  essentially  true.     As  the 


228  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

story  goes,  someone  was  congratulating  Lee  upon  having 
"a  mediocre  man  like  Meade"  as  his  opponent,  suggesting 
that  he  would  have  an  easy  time  with  him.  But  Lee  inter- 
rupted the  speaker,  saying  with  emphasis  that  General 
Meade  was  the  most  dangerous  man  who  had  as  yet  been 
opposed  to  him;  that  he  was  not  only  a  soldier  of  intelli- 
gence and  ability,  but  that  he  was  also  a  conscientious, 
careful,  thorough  and  painstaking  man ;  that  he  would  make 
no  such  mistake  in  his  (Lee's)  front  as  some  of  his  prede- 
cessors had  made,  and  that  if  he  made  any  mistake  in 
Meade's  front  he  would  be  certain  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
It  is  noteworthy  how  exactly  this  estimate  was  fulfilled 
and  confirmed,  not  only  at  Gettysburg,  but  in  the  campaign 
of  the  succeeding  autumn  upon  Virginia  soil,  in  which 
Meade  showed  himself  to  be  able  and  cautious,  wary  and 
lithe ;  incomparably  superior  to  Pope  or  Burnside,  or  even 
Hooker.  In  October,  at  Bristoe  Station,  when  we  were 
attempting  to  outflank  him,  as  we  had  done  Pope,  he  not 
only  escaped  by  giving  such  attention  to  his  "lines  of  retreat" 
as  the  latter  had  boasted  he  would  not  give,  but  he  actually 
inflicted  upon  us  a  decided  defeat,  accentuated  by  the  al- 
most unparalleled  capture  of  five  pieces  of  artillery ;  and  that, 
when  his  force  engaged  was  inferior  to  ours.  In  November,  at 
the  tete-de-pont  at  Rappahannock  Bridge,  he  wrote  for  us 
what  Colonel  Taylor  calls  "the  saddest  chapter  in  the  history 
of  this  army,"  by  snapping  up  two  brigades,  of  twelve  or  fif- 
teen hundred  men,  and  four  pieces  of  artillery,  which  had 
been  exposed,  by  an  arrangement  of  his  lines  more  nearly 
questionable  perhaps  than  any  other  General  Lee  was  ever 
known  to  make.  In  December,  at  Mine  Run,  while  he  failed 
in  his  main  design  of  turning  our  flank  and  forcing  us  to 
abandon  our  fortified  line  on  the  Rapidan,  and  so  pushing 
us  back  on  Hanover  Junction,  and  while  he  got  decidedly 
the  worst  of  the  fighting,  yet  he  succeeded  in  getting  away 
without  the  overwhelming  defeat  we  hoped  to  have  inflicted 
upon  him ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  no  preceding  Federal  com- 
mander of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  had  made  anything  like 
as  good  a  showing  in  an  equal  number  of  moves  against 
their  great  Confederate  opponent. 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND    THE    WILDERNESS         229 

Apropos  of  the  time  and  the  region  in  which  the  opera- 
tions just  commented  upon  occurred, — being  the  great  battle- 
field of  central  Virginia,  threshed  over  for  three  years  by  the 
iron  flail  of  war, — Billy  sends  me  what  he  very  justly  terms 
"the  most  pathetic  and  harrowing  incident  of  my  service  in 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia."  I  give  it  substantially  in 
his  own  words : 

"One  day  while  we  were  encamped  in  the  Poison  Fields 
of  Spottsylvania  County,  Tom  Armistead  and  I  were  sum- 
moned to  Captain  McCarthy's  quarters.  We  found  him 
talking  to  a  woman  very  poorly  but  cleanly  dressed,  who 
seemed  in  bitter  distress.  The  captain  ordered  us  to  go 
with  the  woman  and  bury  her  child.  We  went  with  her  to 
her  home,  a  small  house  with  but  two  rooms.  There  we 
found  her  mother,  an  aged  woman,  and  the  child,  a  boy  of 
ten,  who  had  just  died  of  a  most  virulent  case  of  diphtheria. 
The  father,  a  soldier  in  some  Virginia  regiment,  was  of 
course  absent,  and  of  neighbors  there  were  none  in  that 
war-stricken  country. 

"Armistead  and  I  bathed  and  dressed  the  little  body  and 
then  had  to  rip  planks  off  part  of  the  shed  room  of  the  house 
to  make  something  to  bury  it  in,  tearing  off  the  palings  of 
the  garden  to  get  nails,  having  no  saw  and  being  compelled 
to  cut  and  break  the  planks  with  an  axe.  Before  we  had 
finished  the  box  the  battery  bugle  sounded  'Harness  and 
hitch  up."  We  stayed  long  enough  to  finish  the  box  and 
place  the  body  in  it,  but  could  not  stay  to  dig  the  grave.  We 
had  to  leave  these  two  poor  women  alone  with  the  unburied 
child. 

"There  was  not  a  farm  animal,  not  even  a  fowl,  on  the 
place.  How  these  women  and  many  others  in  the  track 
of  both  those  great  armies  lived  was  then,  and  always  has 
been,  a  mystery  to  me.  War  truly  is  hell;  how  utterly  devil- 
ish are  those  who,  by  cruelty  and  license,  add  to  its  horrors." 

Another  incident  of  this  same  period  and  locality  occurs 
to  me. 

One  of  the  Georgia  batteries  of  our  battalion — "Fra- 
zier's,"  as  it  was  called — was  composed  largely  of  Irishmen 
from  Savannah — gfallant  fellows,  but  wild  and  reckless.  The 


23O  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

captaincy  becoming  vacant,  a  Georgia  Methodist  preacher, 
Morgan  Calloway,  was  sent  to  command  them.  He  proved 
to  be,  all  in  all,  such  a  man  as  one  seldom  sees — a  combina- 
tion of  Praise  God  Barebone  and  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  with  a 
dash  of  Hedley  Vicars  about  him.  He  had  all  the  stern 
grit  of  the  Puritan,  with  much  of  the  chivalry  of  the  Cava- 
lier and  the  zeal  of  the  Apostle. 

No  man  ever  gave  himself  such  a  "send-off"  as  Calloway 
did  with  his  battery.  He  gripped  their  very  souls  at  the 
first  pass. 

Not  long  after  he  took  command  the  battalion  spent  a  few 
days  in  these  Poison  Fields  of  Spottsylvania.  The  very 
evening  we  arrived,  before  we  had  gotten  fixed  for  the  night, 
a  woman  of  the  type  of  the  one  above  described  by  Billy 
came  to  battalion  headquarters  and  complained  that  one  of 
the  men  in  "that  company  over  yonder" — pointing  to  where 
Calloway's  guns  were  parked — had  gone  right  into  her  pig 
pen,  before  her  very  eyes,  and  killed  and  carried  off  her 

pig"- 

The  colonel  directed  me  to  look  after  the  matter,  and  the 
woman  and  I  walked  over  to  the  battery  and  laid  the  com- 
plaint before  Calloway,  who  asked  her  whether  she  thought 
she  could  point  out  the  man.  She  said  she  could,  and  he  or- 
dered his  bugler  to  blow  "an  assembly." 

When  the  line  was  formed  he  gave  the  command,  "To  the 
rear,  open  order,  march !"  the  rear  rank  stepping  back  two 
paces  further  to  the  rear,  and  he  and  I  and  the  woman  start- 
ed to  walk  down  the  front  rank ;  he,  as  was  his  wont  when  on 
duty,  having  his  coat  buttoned  to  the  chin  and  his  sabre 
belted  about  his  waist. 

When  we  had  gotten  a  little  more  than  half  way  down 
the  line  some  lewd  fellow  of  the  baser  sort,  sotto  voce, 
made  some  improper  remark  about  the  woman,  and  his  com- 
rades began  to  titter.  With  a  single  sweep  of  his  right  arm, 
Calloway  drew  his  sabre  and  delivered  his  blow.  The  wea- 
pon flashed  past  my  face  and  laid  open  the  scalp  of  the  chief 
offender,  who  dropped  in  his  tracks,  bleeding  like  a  stricken 
bullock.     There  was  a  shuffle  of  feet  moving  to  his  aid. 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND   THE    WILDERNESS         23 1 

"Stand  fast  in  ranks !  Eyes  front !"  cried  Calloway,  the 
sabre  dripping  with  blood  still  in  his  sword  hand.  Needless 
to  say  they  did  stand,  as  if  carved  out  of  stone,  while  in  ab- 
solute silence  Calloway,  the  woman,  and  I,  completed  our  in- 
spection of  the  front,  and  when  about  midway  of  the  rear 
rank  she,  without  hesitation,  confidently  identified  the  thief. 
His  manner  and  bearing  under  the  charge  convicted  him,  and 
Calloway  had  him  bucked  and  gagged  and  sequestered  his 
pay  to  reimburse  the  woman.  He  then  gave  the  order, 
"break  ranks !"  and  sent  the  surgeon  to  attend  the  wounded 
man. 

I  never  saw  a  company  of  men  more  impressed.  Indeed,  I 
was  myself  as  much  impressed  as  any  of  them,  and  was  at 
considerable  pains  to  catch  the  feelings  and  comments  of  the 
men. 

"Whew !"  said  a  big  fellow,  who  had  been  a  leader  in  all 
the  lawlessness  of  the  battery,  "what  sort  of  a  preacher  do 
you  call  this?  Be-dad!  and  if  he  hits  the  Yankees  half  as 
hard  as  he  hit  Dan,  it'll  be  all  right.  We'll  have  to  watch 
him  about  that,  boys.     We'll  get  his  gait  before  long." 

As  several  times  remarked,  I  have  not  been  able  to  deter- 
mine exactly  when  and  where  I  rejoined  the  old  battalion  as 
its  adjutant;  but  since  writing  the  preceding  chapter  I  am 
satisfied  it  must  have  been  shortly  after  the  battle  of  Gettys- 
burg, and  either  at  or  before  we  reached  Hagerstown;  as 
otherwise  I  should  not  have  witnessed  McLaws'  evening 
visitation  to  the  camp  fires  of  his  division. 

It  may  be  well  here  to  say  that  our  battalion  was  ordered 
to  Hanover  Junction  in  the  autumn  of  1863,  about  two 
months  after  our  return  from  Gettysburg,  with  the  view  of 
going  with  Longstreet's  corps  to  the  West ;  but,  either  from 
lack  of  transportation  or  from  some  other  cause,  we  did  not 
go,  but  passed  some  weeks  on  or  near  the  Central  Railroad, 
gradually  working  our  way  up  toward  the  main  body  of  the 
army  again,  and  were  sent,  after  Mine  Run,  to  guard  the 
middle  fords  of  the  Rapidan. 

I  have  quoted  Colonel  Taylor  as  saying  that  the  disaster  at 
Rappahannock  Bridge  was  the  saddest  chapter  in  the  history 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and  I  am  confident  Gen- 


232  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

eral  Lee  felt  it  very  keenly.  Some  weeks  after  we  had  begun 
our  winter's  watch  on  the  Rapidan,  General  Ewell,  who  was 
in  command  of  the  forces  picketing  the  stream  from  Clark's 
Mountain  down,  received  a  message  from  General  Lee  that 
he  would  come  down  next  day,  bringing  two  or  three  gen- 
eral officers  with  him,  and  wished  General  Ewell,  with  two 
cr  three  of  his  artillery  officers,  to  ride  with  them  along  the 
lines.  General  Ewell  notified  Colonel  Cabell  and  myself  to 
be  at  his  headquarters  next  morning,  where  we  met  General 
Lee,  General  Early,  and  Gen.  John  Pegram,  and  rode  with 
them  along  the  hills  skirting  the  stream,  discussing  chiefly 
positions  for  artillery,  until  we  came  to  a  hill,  over  against 
Raccoon  or  S  ^merville  Ford,  where  we  had  an  exceptionally 
fine  view  of  the  Federal  camps  across  the  river. 

The  party  halted  on  the  summit  and  General  Lee  was 
more  stirred  than  I  had  ever  before  seen  him.  He  either  re- 
ferred expressly  to  Rappahannock  Bridge  and  the  affair  of 
the  tete-de-pont,  or  the  implied  reference  to  it  was  perfectly 
clear.  Sweeping  the  stretch  of  the  enemy's  camps  with  his 
gauntleted  right  hand  he  said  : 

"What  is  there  to  prevent  our  cutting  off  and  destroying 
the  people  in  these  nearer  camps  on  this  side  of  that  hill,  be- 
fore those  back  yonder  on  the  other  side  could  get  to  them 
to  help  them?" 

Early  at  once  answered,  as  if  the  question  had  been  pro- 
pounded to  him  alone : 

"This  infernal  river :  how  are  you  going  to  cross  that 
without  giving  warning?" 

"Ford  it,  sir;  ford  it!" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  pneumonia  pa- 
tients ?"  whined  Old  Jube  with  a  leer. 

Thereupon  Ewell  and  Pegram  sided  strongly  with  Early 
in  deprecating  such  an  undertaking  that  winter  season, 
though  the  weather  at  the  time  was  open  and  fine.  General 
Lee  said  no  more,  and  I  have  never  thought  he  seriously  en- 
tertained such  a  purpose;  but  he  was  evidently  smarting 
under  the  slap  in  the  face  he  had  received,  and  he  panted 
for  some  opportunity  to  return  the  blow. 


BETWEEN    GETTYSBURG   AND   THE    WILDERNESS         233 

While  we  continued  to  look  at  the  Federal  camps  two 
horsemen  rode  down  to  the  other  bank  to  water  their  horses. 
Pegram  seemed  much  interested  and  said  he  believed  he 
would  gallop  down  and  interview  "those  fellows."  As  he 
started,  General  Lee  said,  in  a  deep  voice,  "You'd  better  be 
careful,  sir!"  Pegram  was  a  superb  horseman  and  splen- 
didly mounted,  and  I  never  saw  a  finer  equestrian  figure  than 
he  presented  as  he  dashed  off  down  the  hill,  never  making 
an  uneven  movement  in  the  saddle.  When  he  reached  the 
flat,  through  which  the  river  ran,  the  Federal  horses 
raised  their  heads,  and  their  riders  shaded  their  eyes  with 
their  hands,  gazing  intently  at  the  rapidly-approaching 
horseman  and  striving  to  make  him  out.  As  he  dashed  into 
the  stream  amid  a  cloud  of  spray,  they  advanced  rapidly  to 
meet  him,  and  we  felt  a  shade  of  uneasiness;  but  the  next 
moment  we  saw  that  the  meeting  was  not  only  friendly  but 
enthusiastic,  and  after  the  first  fervors  of  the  greeting  had 
subsided  the  three  sat  upon  their  horses  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream  and  had  a  conference  so  long  that  we  actually  tired 
waiting.  When  Pegram  returned  he  told  us,  with  a  glowing 
countenance,  that  the  troopers  had  belonged  to  his  company 
in  the  old  army  and  that  their  hearts  were  in  the  same 
place  toward  him.  He  was  a  noble  gentleman,  and  no  one 
suggested  such  a  thing  as  military  information  acquired  or 
divulged  under  such  circumstances. 

I  recall  a  trivial  incident  of  Mine  Run  which  may  serve 
as  an  introduction  to  what  may  prove  of  interest.  I  had 
been  sent  with  a  message  to  Gen.  William  N.  Pendleton, 
chief  of  artillery  of  the  army,  and  told  only  that  he  was  on 
the  lines.  So  I  had  to  ride  from  one  end  to  the  other  while 
the  artillery  fire  was  heavy,  and  did  not  find  the  general 
after  all.  But  just  as  I  go  to  the  end  of  the  lines  I  did  find,  a 
little  back  of  them,  a  fine  tree  full  of  ripe  persimmons,  the 
first  I  had  seen  that  autumn,  in  perfect  condition  for  eating. 
I  dismounted,  threw  my  bridle  rein  over  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle,  climbed  the  tree  and  gave  it  a  good  shake.  Mean- 
while several  shells  whistled  not  far  above  my  head  and  I 
distinctly  recall  laughing  to  myself  at  the  difference  two 
and  a  half  years  had  wrought.     Just  after  I  was  mustered 


234  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 


into  service  I  should  have  considered  that  I  had  made  a  nar- 
row escape  from  shells  passing  as  near  as  these,  and  that  it 
was  little  less  than  profane  to  have  so  much  as  thought  of 
persimmons  "under  such  solemn  circumstances." 

But  my  horse,  "Mickey  Free,"  and  I  had  come  to  a  more 
practical  state  of  mind.  We  were  badly  in  need  of  lunch — 
the  persimmons  would  furnish'  a  very  acceptable  one,  and  it 
never  occurred  to  either  of  us  that  the  shells  constituted  any 
serious  obstacle  to  our  gathering  and  eating  luncheon.  I  re- 
call vividly  how  he  raised  his  head  and  pricked  up  his  ears, 
watching  where  the  persimmons  fell  thickest  and  going  there 
and  gobbling  them  up  with  the  greatest  gusto.  After  I 
had  shaken  off  all  that  were  ready  to  drop,  I  proceeded  to 
gather  my  portion,  which  I  thought,  under  the  circum- 
stances, should  be  the  lion's  share;  but  Mickey  evidently 
thought  differently.  I  can  see  the  dear  old  fellow  now  trot- 
ting ahead  of  me  to  the  spots  where  the  fruit  lay  thickest, 
and  as  I  tried  to  dart  in  and  pick  up  my  share,  backing  his 
ears,  wheeling  his  rear  upon  me  and  executing  a  sort  of  con- 
tinuous kick  with  one  hind  leg,  just  to  bully  me  a  little  and 
without  any  intention  of  really  doing  me  harm.  Many 
horses  and  most  dogs  are  very  fond  of  persimmons,  and 
Mickey  and  I  had  the  fullest  and  finest  feed  of  them  that 
morning  at  Mine  Run  that  we  ever  enjoyed  during  our  army 
comradeship. 

I  have  always  been  fond  of  what  we  are  pleased  to  term 
"the  lower  animals,"  particularly  of  horses  and  dogs,  and 
have  already  devoted  several  pages  to  the  biographies  of  the 
only  two  dogs  I  was  intimately  acquainted  with  during  the 
war.  I  ask  permission  now  to  say  a  few  words  about  the 
horses,  whose  starvation  and  sufferings  and  wounds  and 
death  I  really  believe  used  to  affect  me  even  more  than  the 
like  experience  of  my  human  fellow-beings ;  and  this  be- 
cause, as  Grover  said,  at  Ball's  Bluff,  the  men  "  'listed  ter  git 
killed,"  and  the  horses  didn't. 

Some  of  these  sensitive  creatures  were  mortally  afraid  of 
artillery  fire.  I  have  seen  the  poor  brutes,  when  the  shells 
were  flying  low  and  close  above  their  backs,  squat  until  their 
bellies  almost  touched  the  ground.     They  would  be  per- 


BETWEEN   GETTYSBURG   AND   THE   WILDERNESS         235 

fectly  satisfied  during  battle,  or  at  least  entirely  quiet,  if  their 
drivers  remained  with  them,  especially  on  their  backs ;  and 
when  the  men  were  compelled  to  absent  themselves  for  a 
time  and  returned  again  to  their  teams,  I  have  heard  the 
horses  welcome  them  with  whinnies  of  satisfaction  and 
content,  and  have  seen  them,  under  fire,  rub  their  heads 
against  their  drivers  with  confiding  and  appealing  affection. 

And  the  poor  animals  loved  not  only  their  drivers  but 
each  other.  I  have  heard  and  seen  a  horse,  whose  mate 
was  killed  at  his  side,  utter  an  agonized  and  terrified  neigh, 
meanwhile  shuddering  violently,  and  have  known  a  horse  so 
bereaved  persistently  refuse  to  eat,  and  pine  away  and  die. 

A  few  horses,  the  grand  progeny  of  Job's  horse,  may 
"mock  at  fear  *  *  *  and  say  among  the  trumpets,  ha !  ha !" 
But  it  should  be  remembered  that  Job's  horse  probably  did 
not  have  artillery  fire  to  face.  However,  I  have  known 
horses  which  seemed  to  be  thrilled  rather  than  terrified  even 
by  the  thunder  of  the  guns.  Mickey  was  a  horse  of  this 
class,  and  I  used  to  say  of  him  that,  however  he  might  be 
dragged  out  with  fatigue,  under  fire  he  moved  like  a  steam 
engine  on  steel  springs,  and  that  any  coward  could  be  a  hero 
on  his  back.  Even  wounds  had  no  power  to  daunt  him.  He 
was  struck  repeatedly  and  very  dangerously,  but  it  never 
dampened  his  martial  ardor  at  all.  He  was  withal  a  horse 
of  great  intelligence  and  sensibility,  as  stories  I  have  yet  to 
tell  of  him  will  show. 

There  were  only  two  important  movements  of  the  Federal 
forces  in  Virginia  which  intervened  between  Mine  Run  and 
the  opening  of  the  great  campaign  of  1864,  and  neither  of 
them  requires  extended  comment  from  me.  The  first  was 
the  pushing  of  a  corps  across  the  Rapidan,  at  Morton's 
Ford,  immediately  in  front  of  the  Howitzers.  I  cannot  re- 
call the  exact  date — though  I  think  it  was  early  in  February 
— or  what  corps  it  was ;  nor  was  the  object  or  purpose  of  the 
movement  at  all  clear.  It  may  have  been  with  the  view  of 
ascertaining  whether  General  Lee  had  recently  detached  and 
sent  off  to  other  fields  any  considerable  bodies  of  troops ;  or 
it  may  have  been  thought  that  the  main  body  of  his  infantry 
was  encamped  so  far  back  of  the  lines  that  the  artillery  on 


236  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  river  and  its  small  infantry  support  could  be  snapped  up 
before  adequate  reinforcement  could  reach  them.  But  if 
such  an  opportunity  ever  existed,  the  invaders  did  not  act 
with  vigor  in  availing  themselves  of  it.  The  Howitzers 
maintained  a  determined  front,  the  infantry  arrived  and 
poured  into  the  works,  and  the  Federals,  after  suffering 
some  little  loss,  withdrew,  leaving  the  object  of  the  move- 
ment shrouded  in  mystery,  and  returned  across  the  river. 

I  may  be  pardoned  for  relating  in  this  connection  an  amus- 
ing flurry  of  my  good  friend,  General  Ewell,  which  forced 
me  for  a  few  moments  into  rather  an  awkward  position. 
The  General  was  somewhat  excited  over  the  length  of  time 
the  troops  took  to  enter  the  works  after  getting  upon  the 
ground,  and  particularly  over  the  performance  of  a  stiff  old 
Georgia  colonel,  whose  regiment  was  facing  the  works  and 
who  was  actually  side-stepping  it  to  the  right,  to  clear  the 
right  flank  of  another  regiment  that  had  just  entered  the 
works,  and  this  while  the  enemy  was  advancing  up  the  slope 
in  our  front,  and  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  lines  to  our 
right. 

The  General  was  storming  at  the  colonel,  and  I,  sitting 
on  my  horse  near-by,  could  not  repress  a  titter.  Suddenly 
"Old  Dick"  turned  to  me  and  exclaimed : 

"Mr.  Stiles,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  take  that  regiment  and 
put  it  into  the  works !" 

Somewhat  startled,  I  asked,  "Do  you  really  mean  that, 
General  ?" 

"Of  course  I  do !" 

Putting  spurs  to  my  horse,  I  trotted  down  the  line  of 
the  regiment,  calling  out  as  I  reached  its  right  flank,  "Right 
face,  forward,  run — march !"  In  a  moment  or  so  I  had  the 
men  in  the  works,  and  returning,  reached  the  General  just 
as  the  old  colonel  got  there  and  tendered  his  sword.  Gen- 
eral Ewell  declined  to  receive  the  sword,  ordered  him  back 
to  his  command,  and  turning  to  me  said : — 

"Do  you  still  insist,  sir,  that  you  don't  know  tactics 
enough  to  justify  your  being  promoted?" 

The  other  movement  was  what  is  generally  known  as  "the 
Dahlgren  raid,"  which  started  in  three  co-operating  cavalry 


BETWEEN   GETTYSBURG   AND   THE   WILDERNESS         237 

columns,  under  Kilpatrick,  Dahlgren  and  Custer,  about  the 
last  of  February,  1864,  having  Richmond  for  its  objective, 
with  the  intention  to  sack  and  burn  the  city  and  kill  the 
prominent  Confederate  officials.  The  history  of  the  expe- 
dition is  familiar.  I  did  not  come  into  personal  contact 
with  it  in  any  way,  and  it  cannot  therefore  be  said  to  fall 
within  the  domain  of  reminiscence.  If,  however,  the  gen- 
erally-accepted version  of  the  famous  "Dahlgren  orders"  be 
correct, — which  would  seem  to  be  beyond  question, — then 
it  would  be  mild  characterization  to  term  them  "infamous !" 
It  is  a  pleasure  in  this  connection  to  note  that  General 
Lee's  adjutant  general  has  put  on  record  the  statement  that 
"The  disclaimer  of  General  Meade  was  most  candid  and 
emphatic." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CAMPAIGN  OF  '64 THE  WILDERNESS 

Grant — His  Rough  Chivalry — His  Imperturbable  Grit — His  Theory  of 
Attrition — Its  Effect  Upon  the  Spirit  of  Lee's  Army — An  Artillery- 
man of  That  Army  in  Campaign  Trim — Sundown  Prayer-meetings — 
The  Wilderness  an  Infantry  Fight — A  Cup  of  Coffee  with  Gen. 
Ewell  in  the  Forest — Ewell  and  Jackson — Longstreet  Struck  Down. 

Without  recanting  the  statement  that  Chancellorsville  is 
the  most  brilliant  of  Lee's  single  battles,  I  do  not  hesitate  to 
say  that  in  my  opinion — that  is,  if  and  so  far  as  I  am  en- 
titled to  an  opinion  on  the  subject — the  campaign  of  1864, 
from  the  Wilderness  to  Cold  Harbor,  inclusive,  is  the  great- 
est of  all  Lee's  campaigns — incomparably  the  greatest  exhi- 
bition of  generalship  and  soldiership  ever  given  by  the  great 
leader  and  his  devoted  followers. 

Manifestly,  one  of  the  indispensable  elements  in  any  esti- 
mate of  this  campaign  is  the  man  now,  for  the  first  time,  op- 
posed to  us.  I  do  not  propose  to  enter  upon  any  extended 
discussion  or  analysis  of  General  Grant's  powers.  In  com- 
mon with  the  majority  of  the  more  intelligent  soldiers  of 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  I  thought  and  think  well 
of  him  as  a  soldier,  both  as  to  character  and  capacity.  We 
all  felt  that  he  behaved  handsomely,  both  to  General  Lee 
and  to  his  men,  at  Appomattox,  and  that,  later,  in  standing 
between  Lee  and  his  leading  officers  and  the  threatened 
prosecutions  for  treason,  he  exhibited  strong  manhood  and 
sense  of  right.  Many  of  us,  too,  have  heard  of  other  in- 
stances in  his  career  of  a  rough  chivalry  always  attractive 
to  men. 

Just  before  the  surrender,  on  my  way  to  Petersburg  as  a 
prisoner  of  war,  I  was  standing  on  the  roadside  near  General 
Custis  Lee  when  he  was  shocked  by  a  report  of  the  death  of 


CAMPAIGN   OF  '64 THE   WILDERNESS  239 

his  mother.  I  reminded  him  that,  at  such  times,  the  wildest 
rumors  were  apt  to  be  in  circulation,  and  suggested  his  ap- 
plying, by  field  telegraph,  to  Grant  for  leave  to  go  to  Rich- 
mond to  ascertain  the  truth.  He  did  so,  and  at  once  received 
leave,  with  transportation  to  Richmond.  Upon  finding  there 
was  nothing  in  the  rumor,  he  reported  promptly  at  the  office 
of  the  provost  marshal,  but  was  there  told  that  orders  had 
been  sent  by  General  Grant  that  General  Custis  Lee  should 
not  be  received  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  and  he  never  succeeded 
in  getting  back  into  prison  or  any  sort  of  captivity,  though 
he  made  earnest  efforts  to  do  so. 

As  to  Grant's  grit  and  determination,  all  his  predecessors 
together  did  not  possess  as  much  of  these  manly  qualities, 
and  we  used  to  hear  fine  tales,  too,  of  his  imperturbability; 
for  instance,  that  soon  after  he  crossed  the  Rapidan  in  '64, 
when  someone  dashed  up  to  his  headquarters  and  announced 
with  great  excitement  the  capture  of  his  pontoons,  everyone 
else  seemed  to  be  shattered ;  but  Grant  deliberately  removed 
his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  blew  a  very  fine  smoke  wreath  or 
ring,  and  said  quietly,  "If  I  beat  General  Lee  I  sha'n't  want 
any  pontoons;  and  if  General  Lee  beats  me  I  can  take  all 
the  men  I  intend  to  take  back  across  the  river  on  a  log." 

As  to  his  capacity  and  our  estimate  of  it,  we  did  not  think 
much  of  him  as  a  strategist,  but  we  did  credit  him  with  the 
vigor  and  trenchancy  of  mind  that  cut  right  through  to  the 
only  plan  upon  which,  as  I  believe,  we  ever  could  have  been 
overcome — and  the  nerve  to  adhere  to  that  plan  relentlessly, 
remorsely  to  the  very  end,  in  spite  of  all  the  suffering  and 
shrinking  and  weeping  of  the  people.  That  plan  was  the 
simple  but  terrible  one  of  attrition.  As  Colonel  Taylor 
says: 

If  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  men  are  made  to  grapple  in  a 
death  struggle  with  sixty  thousand  men ;  of  the  former,  twenty  thousand 
should  survive  the  total  annihilation  of  the  latter,  even  though  the 
price  exacted  for  such  destruction  be  in  the  ratio  of  two  to  one. 
Behold  the  theory  of  the  Federal  commander  and  an  epitome  of  his  con- 
struction of  strategy,  as  exemplified  on  the  sanguinary  field  extending 
from  the  Wilderness  to  James  River. 


24O  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

But  there  were  two  other  subordinate  or  rather  prepara- 
tory points  that  were  indispensable  to  the  efficient  working 
of  this  scheme,  and  these  also  were  settled  by  Grant,  as  we 
understood  at  the  time,  before  he  would  consent  to  take 
charge  of  the  main  Federal  army,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
These  points  were,  first,  that  he  should  have  all  the  men  he 
wanted  to  fight  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and  to  that 
end  should  control  all  the  armies  and  levies  of  the  Union,  as 
well  as  have  access  to  all  the  recruiting  grounds  of  the 
world;  and  second,  that  the  Confederate  armies  should  not 
be  recruited  from  the  only  ground  from  which  they  could 
possibly  draw  reinforcements— the  military  prisons  of  the 
North — and  to  this  end  there  should  be  no  exchange  of  pris- 
oners ;  that  he  did  not  wish  to  be  reinforced  from  a  source 
that  must  give  Lee  man  for  man  with  him;  that  it  would 
be  cheaper  and  more  merciful  in  the  end  that  Northern 
soldiers  should  starve  and  rot  in  Southern  prisons,  the  Con- 
federate authorities,  as  he  well  knew,  not  having  the  re- 
sources to  prevent  this  result.  And  so  he  held  right  on  to — 
Appomattox. 

If  anyone  deems  this  a  shallow  or  weak  or  self-evident 
scheme,  then  I  for  one  do  not  agree  with  him.  It  is  not 
the  scheme  or  plan  of  a  great  military  genius,  and  it  is  one 
as  to  the  moral  justification  of  which  I  feel  serious  question; 
but  upon  this  basis,  such  as  it  is,  we  all  felt  Grant's  power, 
and  I  for  one  am  willing  to  admit  his  greatness. 

So  much  for  the  new  theory  of  the  struggle  and  the  iron- 
nerved  and  iron-souled  man  who  had  now  taken  charge  of  its 
enforcement,  and  at  the  same  time  of  our  old  antagonist,  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac. 

What  effect,  if  any,  did  the  new  scheme,  so  far  as  it  was 
divulged  or  foreshadowed,  have  upon  the  spirits  of  our  sol- 
diery before  the  first  shot  was  fired?  I  find  my  comrades 
differ  radically  as  to  this — I  mean  the  more  intelligent,  ob- 
servant and  thoughtful  of  them,  those  whose  views  upon 
such  a  subject  should  be  worth  most.  Willy  Dame,  one  of 
the  best  men  of  the  old  battery, — No.  4  at  the  fourth  gun, 
now  the  Rev.  William  M.  Dame,  D.  D.,of  Baltimore,  Md., — 
who  has  written  a  charming  reminiscence  or  personal  narra- 


CAMPAIGN  OF  '64 THE   WILDERNESS  24I 

tive  of  this  campaign,  which  ought  to  be  in  print,  is  em- 
phatic in  stating  that  the  same  old  familiar  spirit  of  light- 
hearted  jollity  and  fun  characterized  the  men  of  the  battery, 
and  of  the  commands  they  encountered  and  passed  on  the 
4th  and  5th  of  May,  as  we  all  poured  from  our  winter  quar- 
ters down  into  the  Wilderness  fight. 

Billy,  on  the  contrary, — my  Billy,  who  has  already  ap- 
peared frequently  in  these  reminiscences, — is  of  very  differ- 
ent mind  and  memory  touching  this  point.  His  recollection  is 
that  he  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  change,  and  as  he  had 
just  made  his  way  back  from  furlough  through  the  army, 
and  passed  the  night  with  an  infantry  regiment  from  his 
own  county  that  contained  many  of  his  former  schoolmates 
and  friends  and  neighbors,  he  had  enjoyed  rather  unusual 
opportunities  for  testing  the  matter.  He  did  not  detect  any 
depression,  or  apprehension  of  disaster,  or  weakness  of 
pluck  or  purpose;  but  he  says  he  did  miss  the  bounding, 
buoyant  spirit,  the  effervescent  outbursts,  the  quips,  the 
jests,  the  jokes,  the  jollities,  such  as  had  usually  character- 
ized the  first  spring  rousings  of  the  army  and  the  first  meet- 
ings and  minglings  of  the  different  commands  as  they  shout- 
ed their  tumultuous  way  to  battle.  He  says  that  there  seems 
to  have  sifted  through  the  ranks  the  conviction  that  the 
struggle  ahead  of  us  was  of  a  different  character  from  any 
we  had  experienced  in  the  past — a  sort  of  premonition  of  the 
definite  mathematical  calculation,  in  whose  hard,  unyielding 
grip  it  was  intended  our  future  should  be  held  and  crushed. 

Billy  mentions  as  a  fact,  which  tends  to  demonstrate  that 
his  analysis  of  the  views  and  feelings  of  the  men  is  correct, 
that  every  man  in  our  battery  who  was  absent  on  furlough 
the  1st  of  May,  '64,  returned  instantly,  some  of  them  hav- 
ing just  reached  home.  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  that 
Billy  was  one  of  these  latter,  and  my  youngest  brother,  who 
had  joined  us  from  Georgia  some  months  before,  another. 
Some  of  these  men  arrived  before  we  left  camp  at  Morton's 
Ford ;  and  others  walked  many  hours,  following  the  solemn 
sound  of  the  firing,  and  found  us  in  the  midst  of  the  sombre 
Wilderness,  and  two  at  bloody  Spottsylvania.  One  of  these 
two,  a  Petersburg  boy,  was  delayed  because  of  having  fought 


242  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

at  home  one  day  under  Beauregard  against  Butler.  To  this 
I  may  add  the  fact  that  another  man  of  the  battery,  wounded 
during  the  campaign,  apologized  humbly  to  the  captain  for 
the  imprudence  which  led  to  his  wound,  because,  as  he  said, 
he  well  understood  what  the  loss  of  one  man  meant  to  us 
now. 

Upon  the  whole,  while  not  formally  deciding,  as  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  Texas  recently  did  in  a  telegraph  case, — as 
to  the  inherent  difference  between  "Willy  and  Billy," — yet 
I  am  inclined  to  think  in  this  particular  that  Billy  is  right — 
that  in  the  spring  of  1864  there  was  very  generally  diffused 
throughout  the  army  a  more  or  less  definite  realization  or 
consciousness  that  a  new  stage  in  the  contest  had  been 
reached  and  a  new  theory  broached ;  the  mathematical  theory 
that  if  one  army  outnumbers  another  more  than  two  to  one, 
and  the  larger  can  be  indefinitely  reinforced  and  the  smaller 
not  at  all,  then  if  the  stronger  side  will  but  make  up  its  mind 
to  stand  all  the  killing  the  weaker  can  do,  and  will  keep  it  so 
made  up,  there  can  be  but  one  result.  Billy  says  the  realiza- 
tion of  this  new  order  of  things  did  not  affect  the  resolution 
of  the  men,  but  that  it  did  affect  their  spirits.  I  can  only 
say  I  believe  he  is  exactly  correct. 

Willy  Dame,  in  his  reminiscences  above  mentioned,  gives 
a  graphic  account  of  the  break  up  on  the  4th  of  May  of  the 
winter  camp  of  the  Howitzers  at  Morton's  Ford,  in  the 
course  of  which  he  presents  this  excellent  picture  of  the  full 
dress  of  a  Confederate  artilleryman  in  campaign  fighting 
trim : 

"In  less  than  two  hours  after  the  order  was  given,  the 
wagon  was  gone  and  the  men  left  in  'campaign  trim.'  This 
meant  that  each  man  had  one  blanket,  one  small  haversack, 
one  change  of  underclothes,  a  canteen,  cup  and  plate  of  tin,  a 
knife  and  fork,  and  the  clothes  in  which  he  stood.  When 
ready  to  march,  the  blanket,  rolled  lengthwise,  the  ends 
brought  together  and  strapped,  hung  from  left  shoulder 
across  under  right  arm;  the  haversack — furnished  with 
towel,  soap,  comb,  knife  and  fork  in  various  pockets,  a 
change  of  underclothes  in  the  main  division,  and  whatever 
rations  we  happened  to  have  in  the  other — hung  on  the  left 


CAMPAIGN   OF    '64 THE   WILDERNESS  243 

hip;  the  canteen,  cup  and  plate,  tied  together,  hung  on  the 
right;  toothbrush,  at  will,  stuck  in  two  button  holes  of  jacket 
or  in  haversack ;  tobacco  bag  hung  to  a  breast  button,  pipe  in 
pocket.  In  this  rig,  into  which  a  fellow  could  get  in  just 
two  minutes  from  a  state  of  rest,  the  Confederate  soldier 
considered  himself  all  right  and  all  ready  for  anything;  in 
this  he  marched  and  in  this  he  fought.  Like  the  terrapin, 
'all  he  had  he  carried  on  his  back,'  and  this  'all'  weighed 
about  seven  or  eight  pounds." 

It  will  be  noted  that  I  have  prefaced  this  catalogue  by  the 
expression  "full  dress."  If  I  may  be  allowed,  I  would  criti- 
cise the  list  as  a  little  too  full.  I  cannot  recall  ever  having 
eaten  out  of  a  plate,  or  with  a  knife  and  fork,  or  having 
owned  any  or  either  of  these  articles  while  a  private  soldier, 
certainly  not  after  the  first  few  months  of  the  war.  And 
even  after  I  became  an  officer,  as  adjutant  of  the  battalion, 
I  never  carried  plate,  knife,  or  fork  with  me  on  my  horse 
after  the  campaign  opened.  Colonel  Cabell  and  I  often  ate 
out  of  the  same  tin  cup  or  frying  pan.  Indeed,  I  carried 
nothing  on  my  horse  save  a  pair  of  very  contracted  saddle 
pockets  and  the  cape  of  my  overcoat,  and  Colonel  Cabell  car- 
ried his  pockets,  his  overcoat,  and  an  oil  cloth.  We  slept 
together,  lying  on  his  oil  cloth,  he  wearing  his  overcoat  when 
cold,  and  both  of  us  covered  with  my  cape. 

Another  feature  of  Willy  Dame's  account  of  the  Howitzer 
good-by  to  winter  quarters,  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign 
of  '64,  is  well  worthy  of  record.  He  says  that  the  very  last 
public  and  general  act  of  the  men  was,  of  their  own  account, 
to  gather  for  a  farewell  religious  service, — Bible  reading, 
singing  of  a  hymn,  prayer,  words  of  exhortation  and  cheer, 
— and  that  this  meeting  closed  with  a  solemn  resolution  to 
hold  such  a  service  daily  during  the  campaign  when  practica- 
ble, and  as  near  as  might  be  to  the  sunset  hour,  and  then  he 
adds : 

"But  however  circumstanced,  in  battle,  on  the  battle-line, 
in  intervals  of  quiet,  or  otherwise,  we  held  that  prayer  hour 
nearly  every  day,  at  sunset,  during  the  entire  campaign. 
And  some  of  us  thought  and  think,  that  the  strange  exemp- 
tion our  battery  experienced,  our  little  loss  in  the  midst  of 


244  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

unnumbered  perils  and  incessant  service  during  that  awful 
campaign,  was  that  in  answer  to  our  prayers  the  God  of 
Battles  'covered  our  heads  in  the  day  of  battle,'  and  was 
merciful  to  us,  because  we  'called  upon  Him.'  If  any  think 
this  is  a  'fond  fancy,'  we  don't." 

Lee's  ready  acceptance  of  the  gage  of  battle  flung  down 
by  Grant,  his  daring  and  unexpected  attack  upon  him  in  the 
thickets  of  the  Wilderness,  while  it  appeared  to  be  the 
height  of  reckless  audacity,  was  really  the  dictate  of  the 
wisest  and  most  balanced  prudence.  In  such  a  country  the 
advantage  of  Grant's  overwhelming  preponderance  of  num- 
bers was  reduced  to  a  minimum,  and  his  great  parks  of  ar- 
tillery were  absolutely  useless.  Besides,  to  retire  and  fall 
back  upon  an  inner  line  was  just  what  Grant  desired  and  ex- 
pected Lee  to  do,  and  would  have  been  in  exact  furtherance 
of  Grant's  plans.  In  this  instance,  as  usual,  Lee's  audacity 
meant  the  exercise  of  his  unerring  military  instinct  and 
judgment. 

As  just  intimated,  the  Wilderness  was  essentially,  yes,  al- 
most exclusively,  an  infantry  fight,  and  we  of  the  artillery 
saw,  in  fact,  next  to  nothing  of  it,  but  hovered  around  its 
edge,  thrilled  and  solemnized  by  the  awful  roar  and  swell  and 
reverberation  of  the  musketry  and  by  the  procession  of 
wounded  men  and  prisoners  that  streamed  past. 

The  first  incident  of  the  march  or  the  battle-field  that 
impressed  itself  upon  my  memory  is  that  early  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  5th  of  May,  while  riding  ahead  of  the  battalion, 
I  came  upon  my  old  friend,  General  Ewell,  crouching  over  a 
low  fire  at  a  "cross  roads"  in  the  forest,  no  one  at  the  time 
being  nigh  except  the  two  horses,  and  a  courier  who  had 
charge  of  them  and  the  two  crutches.  The  old  hero,  who  had 
lost  a  leg  in  battle,  could  not  mount  his  horse  alone  and  never 
rode  without  at  least  one  attendant,  who  always  followed 
close  after  him,  carrying  his  "quadruped  pegs,"  or  rather  his 
tripod  pegs.  The  General  was  usually  very  thin  and  pale, — 
unusually  so  that  morning, — but  bright-eyed  and  alert.  He 
was  accustomed  to  ride  a  flea-bitten  gray  named  Rifle,  who 
was  singularly  like  him — so  far  as  a  horse  could  be  like  a 
man.    I  knew  Rifle  well  and  noted  that  both  he  and  his  mas- 


CAMPAIGN   OF  '64 THE   WILDERNESS  245 

ter  looked  a  little  as  if  they  had  been  up  all  night  and  had  not 
had  breakfast. 

I  have  before  mentioned  the  General's  great  kindness  to 
me.  When  we  were  alone  he  often  called  me  "My  child," 
and  he  embarrassed  me  by  repeated  recommendations  for 
promotion.  We  were  captured  very  late  in  the  war,  in  the 
same  battle  and  about  the  same  time,  and  he  not  only  hon- 
ored and  touched  me  greatly  by  expressing  on  the  field  and 
in  the  presence  of  several  general  officers,  also  prisoners,  his 
high  estimate  of  and  strong  affection  for  me,  but  he  wrote 
me  in  prison  one  or  two  kind  letters  giving  me  earnest 
advice  as  to  my  immediate  future. 

On  this  morning  he  asked  me  to  dismount  and  take  a  cup 
of  coffee  with  him.  He  was  a  great  cook.  I  remember  on 
one  occasion,  later  in  the  war,  I  met  him  in  the  outer  defenses 
of  Richmond,  and  he  told  me  someone  had  sent  him  a  tur- 
key leg  which  he  was  going  to  "devil;"  that  he  was  strong 
on  that  particular  dish ;  that  his  staff  would  be  away,  and  I 
must  come  around  that  evening  and  share  it  with  him.  I 
willingly  accepted  on  both  occasions,  and  on  both  greatly  en- 
joyed a  chat  with  the  General  and  the  unaccustomed  treat. 
On  this  Wilderness  morning,  while  we  were  drinking  our 
coffee,  f  asked  him  if  he  had  any  objection  to  telling  me  his 
orders,  and  he  answered  briskly,  "No,  sir;  none  at  all — just 
the  orders  I  like — to  go  right  down  the  plank  road  and 
strike  the  enemy  wherever  I  find  him." 

It  is  glory  enough  for  any  man  to  have  been  Stonewall 
Jackson's  trusted  lieutenant.  Ewell  simply  worshiped  his 
great  commander;  indeed,  it  was  this  worship  that  led  him 
to  the  highest.  He  worshiped  Jackson,  and  yet  they  were 
not  exactly  kindred  spirits.  The  following  little  story, 
which  I  quote  from  Dr.  McGuire,  but  which  I  heard  many 
times  before  reading  it  in  print,  well  illustrates  one  of  the 
points  of  difference  between  them. 

At  the  battle  of  Port  Republic  an  officer  commanding  a  regiment  of 
Federal  soldiers  and  riding  a  snow-white  horse  was  very  conspicuous 
for  his  gallantry.  He  frequently  exposed  himself  to  the  fire  of  our  men 
in  the  most  reckless  way.  So  splendid  was  this  man's  courage  that  Gen- 
eral Ewell,  one  of  the  most  chivalrous  gentlemen  I  ever  knew,  at  some 


246  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

risk  to  his  own  life,  rode  down  the  line  and  called  to  his  men  not  to 
shoot  the  man  on  the  white  horse.  After  a  while,  however,  the  officer 
and  the  white  horse  went  down.  A  day  or  two  after,  when  General  Jack- 
son learned  of  the  incident,  he  sent  for  General  Ewell  and  told  him  not  to 
do  such  a  thing  again ;  that  this  was  no  ordinary  war,  and  the  brave  and 
gallant  Federal  officers  were  the  very  kind  that  must  be  killed.  "Shoot 
the  brave  officers  and  the  cowards  will  run  away  and  take  the  men  with 
them?" 

I  do  not  say  Jackson  was  not  right,  but  I  do  say  that  in 
this  double  picture  dear  Old  Dick's  is  the  most  lovable. 

It  is  a  little  singular  that  though  nominally  attached  to 
his  command  longer  than  any  other,  yet  I  probably  had  less 
acquaintance  and  association  with  General  Longstreet  than 
with  any  other  of  the  more  prominent  generals  of  the  Con- 
federate army  in  Virginia.  Indeed  I  do  not  recall  ever  hav- 
ing spoken  to  him  or  having  heard  him  utter  so  much  as 
one  word.  True,  he  was  several  times  sent  off  on  detached 
service,  upon  which  we  did  not  accompany  him,  and  while 
nominally  of  his  corps  we  had  just  been  for  some  five 
months  under  Ewell's  command ;  yet,  after  making  allow- 
ance for  all  this,  I  could  not  but  feel  that  there  must  be 
something  in  the  nature  of  the  man  himself  to  account  for 
the  fact  that  I  knew  so  little  of  him.  Colonel  Freemantle, 
of  the  Cold  Stream  Guards,  who  wrote  a  very  charming 
diary -entitled,  I  think,  "Two  Months  in  the  Confederate 
Lines,"  says,  however,  if  I  rightly  remember,  that  the  rela- 
tions between  Longstreet  and  his  staff  were  exceptionally 
pleasant,  and  reminded  him  more  of  those  which  obtained 
in  the  British  service  than  any  others  he  observed  in  America. 
In  this  Wilderness  fight  I  was  suddenly  brought  in  contact 
with  a  scene  which  greatly  affected  my  conception  of  the 
man  under  the  regalia  of  the  general. 

It  may  not  have  been  generally  observed  that  Jackson  and 
Longstreet  were  both  struck  down  in  the  Wilderness,  just 
one  year  apart,  each  at  the  crisis  of  the  most  brilliant  and, 
up  to  the  moment  of  his  fall,  the  most  successful  movement 
of  his  career  as  a  soldier,  and  each  by  the  fire  of  his  own  men. 
I  had  been  sent  forward,  perhaps  to  look  for  some  place 
where  we  might  get  into  the  fight,  when  I  observed  an  ex- 


CAMPAIGN   OF  '64 THE   WILDERNESS  247 

cited  gathering  some  distance  back  of  the  lines,  and  pressing 
toward  it  I  heard  that  General  Longstreet  had  just  been  shot 
clown  and  was  being  put  into  an  ambulance.  I  could  not 
learn  anything  definite  as  to  the  character  of  his  wound,  but 
only  that  it  was  serious — some  said  he  was  dead.  When  the 
ambulance  moved  off,  I  followed  it  a  little  way,  being 
anxious  for  trustworthy  news  of  the  General.  The  mem- 
bers of  his  staff  surrounded  the  vehicle,  some  riding  in 
front,  some  on  one  side  and  some  on  the  other,  and  some  be- 
hind. One,  I  remember,  stood  upon  the  rear  step  of  the 
ambulance,  seeming  to  desire  to  be  as  near  him  as  possi- 
ble. I  never  on  any  occasion  during  the  four  years  of  the 
war  saw  a  group  of  officers  and  gentlemen  more  deeply  dis- 
tressed. They  were  literally  bowed  down  with  grief.  All 
of  them  were  in  tears.  One,  by  whose  side  I  rode  for  some 
distance,  was  himself  severely  hurt,  but  he  made  no  allusion 
to  his  wound,  and  I  do  not  believe  he  felt  it.  It  was  not  alone 
the  general  they  admired  who  had  been  shot  down — it  was, 
rather,  the  man  they  loved. 

I  rode  up  to  the  ambulance  and  looked  in.  They  had 
taken  off  Longstreet's  hat  and  coat  and  boots.  The  blood 
had  paled  out  of  his  face  and  its  somewhat  gross  aspect  was 
gone.  I  noticed  how  white  and  dome-like  his  great  fore- 
head looked  and,  with  scarcely  less  reverent  admiration,  how 
spotless  white  his  socks  and  his  fine  gauze  undervest,  save 
where  the  black  red  gore  .from  his  breast  and  shoulder  had 
stained  it.  While  I  gazed  at  his  massive  frame,  lying  so 
still,  except  when  it  rocked  inertly  with  the  lurch  of  the  ve- 
hicle, his  eyelids  frayed  apart  till  I  could  see  a  delicate  line 
of  blue  between  them,  and  then  he  very  quietly  moved  his 
unwounded  arm  and,  with  his  thumb  and  two  fingers,  care- 
fully lifted  the  saturated  undershirt  from  his  chest,  holding 
it  up  a  moment,  and  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  He  is  not  dead,  I 
said  to  myself,  and  he  is  calm  and  entirely  master  of  the 
situation — he  is  both  greater  and  more  attractive  than  I  have 
heretofore  thought  him. 

Some  years  after  the  war  I  read  in  a  newspaper  a  short 
paragraph  which  brought  this  scene  vividly  to  my  mind. 
Longstreet,  at  the  Wilderness,  was  wounded  in  the  shoulder, 


248  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

fighting  Hancock's  corps;  Hancock  had  previously  been 
wounded  in  the  thigh,  fighting  Longstreet's.  One  evening 
while  Hancock  was  in  command  in  New  Orleans,  he  and 
Longstreet  entered  Hancock's  theatre  box  together.  The 
entire  audience  rose  and  burst  into  enthusiastic  cheers,  and 
refused  to  be  seated  or  to  be  quiet  until  the  two  generals  ad- 
vanced together  to  the  front  of  the  box,  when  Hancock  said  : 
"Ladies  and  Gentlemen — I  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting 
to  you  my  friend,  General  Longstreet,  a  gentleman  to  whom 
I  am  indebted  for  an  ungraceful  limp,  and  whom  I  had  the 
misfortune  to  wing  in  the  same  contest." 

Both  sides  suffered  severely  in  the  Wilderness,  but  except 
perhaps  upon  the  basis  of  Grant's  mathematical  theory  of  at- 
trition, the  Confederates  got  decidedly  the  best  of  the  fight- 
ing. Next  came  the  race  for  Spottsylvania  Court  House, 
and  the  checkmate  of  Warren's  corps  by  Stuart's  dismounted 
cavalry.  Such  were  the  prominent  features  of  the  entire 
campaign.  It  was  a  succession  of  death  grapples  and  recoils 
and  races  for  new  position,  and  several  times  during  the 
campaign  the  race  was  so  close  and  tense  and  clearly  defined 
that  we  could  determine  the  exact  location  of  the  Federal 
column  by  the  cloud  of  dust  that  overhung  and  crept  along 
the  horizon  parallel  to  our  own  advance. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SPOTTSYLVANIA 

Death  of  a  Gallant  Boy — Mickey  Free  Hard  to  Kill — The  ioth  and  12th 
of  May — Handsome  Conduct  of  the  "Napoleon  Section"  of  the 
Howitzers — Frying  Pan  as  Sword  and  Banner — Prayer  with  a 
Dying  Federal  Soldier — -"Trot  Out  Your  Deaf  Man  and  Your  Old 
Doctor" — The  Base  of  the  Bloody  Angle — The  Musketry  Fire — 
Majestic  Equipoise  of  Marse  Robert. 

At  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  when  the  artillery  and  in- 
fantry arrived  and  took  the  place  of  the  gallant  cavalrymen, 
who  had  saved  the  day  and  the  place  for  us,  the  guns  of  our 
battalion,  as  I  remember,  were  the  first  to  reach  the  field. 
As  adjutant,  I  had  ridden  with  the  old  battery  to  its  selected 
position,  and,  these  guns  in  place,  had  returned  to  the  col- 
umn and  was  aiding  in  locating  another  of  the  batteries, 
when  the  fire  upon  the  Howitzer  position  became  so  heavy 
that  I  galloped  back  to  see  how  they  were  faring  and  if  they 
needed  anything.  As  I  rode  rapidly  in  rear  of  the  first  gun 
of  the  battery,  at  which  my  youngest  brother,  Eugene,  had 
been  made  a  driver,  I  noted  that  the  fire  had  slackened  con- 
siderably, but  that  one  of  his  horses  had  been  killed;  that  he 
had  very  practically  pulled  the  dead  horse  around  into 
proper  position,  and  he  and  the  driver  of  the  other  team  were 
fast  constructing  quite  a  passable  earthwork  over  and  about 
him.  Just  as  I  observed  this,  "Genie"  caught  sight  of  me, 
and  springing  up,  shouted  after  me,  in  fine  voice  and  good 
old  Georgia  nursery  phrase : 

"Bubba,  Bubba,  I  wasn't  scared  a  bit — not  a  bit !" 
A  line  of  stalwart  veteran  infantry  was  lying  down  be- 
hind the  guns,  and  as  the  plucky,  but  uninitiated,  boy  shouted 
this  reassuring  greeting,  several  of  these  seasoned  old  fel- 
lows raised  up  partly  and  looked  around,  and  one  of  them 


25O  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

called  out,  "Where's  that  fellow  that  wasn't  scared  a  bit? 
He  must  be  some  greenhorn  or  fool !"  And  then  there  was  a 
burst  of  laughter  at  the  lad's  expense.  But  I  shouted  back 
to  him  that  he  musn't  mind  them ;  that  they  were  just  guy- 
ing him,  and  were  glad  enough  to  be  behind  his  gun  and 
his  dead  horse,  too. 

At  one  of  the  positions  the  Howitzers  took  on  these  lines 
1  witnessed  a  striking  scene,  or  rather  the  climax  of  it — the 
rest  was  told  me  shortly  after  I  reached  the  guns. 

There  was  a  tall,  black-haired,  pale-faced  boy  in  the  com- 
pany, named  Cary  Eggleston,  a  cousin,  I  think,  of  George 
Gary  Eggleston,  whom  he  strongly  resembled.  He  was 
No.  1  at  the  third  gun ;  said  to  be  the  best  No.  1  in  the  bat- 
tery, and  even  before  his  heroic  end,  known  to  be  a  fellow  of 
most  gallant  spirit.  He  was  one  of  that  small  class  of  men 
who  really  love  a  fight  for  its  own  sake.  He  was  not  yet 
fully  developed,  and  ordinarily  appeared  rather  gangling  and 
loose-jointed,  but  it  required  only  the  thrill  of  action  to  in- 
spire him  and  to  make  his  movements  as  graceful  as  they 
were  powerful  and  effective.  His  "manual  of  the  piece"  was 
really  superb  when  his  gun  was  hotly  engaged. 

At  the  very  height  of  a  fierce  flurry  his  left  arm  was 
nearly  severed  from  his  body  by  a  fragment  of  shell.  At 
that  moment  a  comrade,  who  had  returned  while  on  fur- 
lough and  had  walked  in  all  nearly  forty  miles  to  reach  us, 
came  running  up  to  his  gun.-  The  disabled  No.  1  handed 
him  the  rammer,  saying : 

"Here,  Johnny,  take  it !  You  haven't  had  any  fun  yet." 
When  he  had  thus  surrendered  his  scepter  and  appointed  his 
own  successor,  he  had  a  crude  tourniquet  applied  to  his  arm ; 
but  insisted  upon  walking  to  the  field  hospital,  refusing  a  lit- 
ter or  even  a  man  to  accompany  him. 

I  had  been  with  another  of  the  batteries  of  the  battalion, 
but  hearing  the  rapid  firing  about  the  Howitzer  position, 
was  galloping  down  there,  when  I  saw  Eggleston  walking 
out.  He  had  his  unwounded  side  toward  me,  and  I  called  to 
him  to  know  where  and  why  he  was  going.  He  answered 
by  turning  his  other  side  and  holding  up  the  stump,  from 
which  his  shattered  arm  hung  by  ragged  shirt  sleeve  and 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  25 1 

torn  tendon,  and  then  he  shook  the  clenched  fist  of  his 
sound  arm  toward  the  Federal  lines,  shouting  to  me  that  he 
would  soon  be  back  to  fight  them  with  that.  The  unconquer- 
able boy  died  the  following  evening. 

I  have  spoken  several  times  of  the  "Howitzer  position" 
in  the  Spottsylvania  lines.  Up  to  the  12th  of  May  I  think 
only  two  of  their  guns  were  on  the  main  or  front  line,  and 
even  on  the  12th  the  four  were  not  together.  Prior  to  the 
12th  two  rifles  of  this  battery  and  two  of  theTroupe  Artillery 
were  some  distance  back  upon  a  hill,  having  been  so  placed 
with  a  view  of  engaging  certain  of  the  enemy's  batteries  to 
the  relief  of  our  front  line,  and  of  having  a  wider  range  and 
sweep  of  the  attacking  lines  and  columns. 

One  evening,  about  the  9th  of  May,  I  was  riding  into  the 
position  of  some  of  our  guns  on  the  front  line  and  passing 
through  a  little  copse  of  woods,  there  being  at  the  time 
quite  a  sharp  musketry  fire  on  the  lines,  and  bullets  clinking 
against  the  resinous  boles  of  the  pine  trees  about  me,  when 
suddenly  my  horse,  Mickey  Free,  was  shot,  the  ball  making  a 
loud  slap  when  it  struck.  He  sprang  aside,  but  settled  right 
down  again  to  his  course,  and  it  was  some  little  time  before 
I  could  find  any  trace  of  the  shot.  I  soon  discovered,  how- 
ever, that  the  ball  had  cut  into  one  of  my  saddle  pockets, 
but  not  through  it,  and  there  it  was,  inside.  A  moment 
later  he  was  struck  again,  and  this  time  reared  and  plunged 
violently.  Glancing  around  I  saw  that  the  ball  had  entered 
back  of  my  legs  about  the  mid  line  of  his  body  one  side  and 
had  come  out  about  opposite  on  the  other,  and,  as  he  persist- 
ed in  lying  down  and  rolling,  I  concluded  that  the  poor  fel- 
low was  mortally  hurt,  and  sprang  off,  endeavoring  to  re- 
move saddle  and  bridle,  which  I  finally  accomplished,  with 
some  difficulty  and  at  some  peril  of  being  kicked  or  rolled 
upon.  I  looked  at  him  a  few  moments  in  great  distress,  but 
the  fire  becoming  really  heavy,  I  threw  saddle  and  bridle 
across  my  shoulder  and  toddled  into  the  works  on  foot. 

My  recollection  is  that  when  the  attack  had  been  repulsed 
I  went  back  to  see  if  Mickey  was  dead,  or  if  I  could  do  any- 
thing for  him,  but  that  he  had  disappeared ;  that  I  could  not 
track  him  far  and  soon  gave  it  up,  concluding  I  would  never 


252  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

see  him  again.  I  certainly  laid  clown  that  night  one  of 
"Lee's  Miserdbles,"  as  we  used  to  term  ourselves,  after  read- 
ing Victor  Hugo's  great  novel — a  soldier  edition  of  his 
works  in  Confederate  "sheep's  wool  paper"  having  been  dis- 
tributed largely  throughout  the  army  the  preceding  winter. 
Judge  of  my  surprise  and  delight  at  learning,  early  in  the 
morning,  that  Mickey  had  in  some  mysterious  way  found 
our  headquarter  wagon  and  was  being  cared  for  there,  and 
that  he  did  not  seem  to  be  contemplating  immediate  death, 
but  on  the  contrary  had  drunk  copiously  and  eaten  spar- 
ingly, as  was  a  Confederate  artillery  horse's  duty  to  do.  As 
soon  as  I  could  get  off  I  went  back  to  see  the  dear  old  fel- 
low, and  there  he  was,  as  good  as  ever,  except  that  a  rope 
appeared  to  have  been  drawn  around  the  lower  part  of  his 
body,  just  under  the  skin,  and  a  little  back  of  the  proper  line 
of  the  saddle  girth.  The  Minie  bullet  had  of  course  been  de- 
flected, and  had  passed  beneath  the  skin,  half  around  his 
body,  without  penetrating  the  cavity. 

My  dear  friend,  Willy  Dame,  in  his  reminiscences  already 
quoted,  says  some  very  pleasant  and  complimentary  things 
of  "our  old  adjutant."  These  things  I  do  not  pretend  to 
gainsay  or  deny.  It  would  be  easy  to  deny  and  not  hard, 
perhaps,  to  disprove  them;  but  motive  is  lacking.  Why 
should  I  ?  The  fact  is,  I  shouldn't  and  I  won't.  But  there 
are  other  things,  or  at  least  there  is  one  other  thing  he  says, 
and  says  elaborately,  with  date  and  circumstance, — the  date 
is  the  JOth  of  May — calculated  to  bring  my  gray  hair  into 
ridicule  and  contempt,  which,  of  course,  I  deny,  even  if  I  can- 
not disprove.  The  difficulty  of  proving  a  negative  is  well  un- 
derstood. I  certainly  go  as  far  as  this — I  have  no  recollection 
whatever  of  such  occurrence  or  utterance  as  he  mentions, 
barring  the  nasty  performances  of  those  twenty-pounder 
Parrott  shells.  I  recollect  a  good  many  of  these  quite  similar 
to  what  Willy  describes.    But  here  is  what  he  says : 

Robert  Stiles,  the  adjutant  of  the  battalion,  who  had  been  until  lately 
a  member  of  our  battery  and  was  very  devoted  to  it  and  his  comrades 
in  it,  had  come  to  the  line  to  see  how  we  were  getting  on,  and  gave  us 
news  of  other  parts  of  the  line.    He,  Beau  Barnes,  and  others  of  us,  were 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  253 

standing  by  our  guns  talking,  when  a  twenty-pounder  Parrott  shell  came 
grazing  just  over  our  guns,  passed  on,  and  about  forty  yards  behind  us 
struck  a  pine  tree  about  two  and  a  half  to  three  feet  in  diameter.  The 
shell  had  turned.  It  struck  that  big  tree  sideways  and  cut  it  entirely  off, 
and  threw  it  from  the  stump.  It  fell  in  an  upright  position,  struck  the 
ground,  stood  for  an  instant  and  then  came  crashing  down.  It  was  a 
very  creepy  suggestion  of  what  that  shell  might  have  done  to  one  of  us. 
A  few  moments  after,  another  struck  the  ground  right  by  us  and  ric- 
ochetted.  After  it  passed  us,  as  was  frequently  the  case,  we  caught 
sight  of  it  and  followed  its  upward  flight  until  it  seemed  to  be  going 
straight  to  the  sky. 

Stiles  said,  "There  it  goes,  as  though  flung  by  the  hand  of  a  giant." 
Beau  Barnes,  who  was  not  poetical,  exclaimed,  "Giant  be  darned ;  there 
ain't  any  giant  can  fling  'em  like  that !"    He  was  right ! 

If  the  foregoing  was  not  written  with  malicious  intent  to 
expose  me  to  the  scorn  of  all  sensible  and  practical  people, 
then  my  belief  is  that  Willy  Dame  dreamed  the  absurd  story ; 
but  if  Barnes  and  I  did  speak  under  the  circumstances  men- 
tioned, and  both  are  correctly  quoted,  then  I  admit  the  re- 
doubtable "Beau"  had  decidedly  the  best  of  it,  and  I  apolo- 
gize humbly. 

The  10th  of  May,  '64,  was  preeminently  a  day  of  battle 
with  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  I  know,  of  course, 
that  the  12th  is  commonly  regarded  as  the  pivotal  day,  the 
great  day,  and  the  Bloody  Angle  as  the  pivotal  place,  the 
great  place,  of  the  Spottsylvania  fights,  and  that  for  an  hour 
or  so,  along  the  sides  and  base  of  that  angle,  the  musketry 
fire  is  said  to  have  been  heavier  than  it  ever  was  at  any  other 
place  in  all  the  world,  or  for  any  other  hour  in  all  the  tide 
of  time.  But  for  frequency  and  pertinacity  of  attack,  and  re- 
petition and  constancy  of  repulse,  I  question  if  the  left  of 
General  Lee's  line  on  the  10th  of  May,  1864,  has  ever  been 
surpassed.  I  cannot  pretend  to  identify  the  separate  at- 
tacks or  to  distinguish  between  them,  but  should  think  there 
must  have  been  at  least  a  dozen  of  them.  One  marked 
feature  was  that,  while  fresh  troops  poured  to  almost  every 
charge,  the  same  muskets  in  the  hands  of  the  same  men  met 
the  first  attack  in  the  morning  and  the  last  at  night ;  and 
so  it  was  that  the  men  who  in  the  early  morning  were  so  full 
of  fight  and  fun  that  they  leaped  upon  the  breastworks  and 


254  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

shouted  to  the  retiring  Federals  to  come  a  little  closer  the 
next  time,  as  they  did  not  care  to  go  so  far  after  the  clothes 
and  shoes  and  muskets — were  so  weary  and  worn  and  heavy 
at  night  that  they  could  scarcely  be  roused  to  meet  the  charg- 
ing enemy. 

The  troops  supporting  the  two  Napoleon  guns  of  the 
Howitzers  were,  as  I  remember,  the  Seventh  (or  Eighth) 
Georgia  and  the  First  Texas.  Toward  the  close  of  the  day 
everything  seemed  to  have  quieted  down,  in  a  sort  of  im- 
plied truce.  There  was  absolutely  no  fire,  either  of  musketry 
or  cannon.  Our  weary,  hungry  infantry  stacked  arms  and 
were  cooking  their  mean  and  meagre  little  rations.  Some- 
one rose  up,  and  looking  over  the  works — it  was  shading 
down  a  little  toward  the  dark — cried  out :  "Hello  !  What's 
this?  Why,  here  come  our  men  on  a  run,  from — no,  by 
Heavens  !  it's  the  Yankees !"  and  before  anyone  could  realize 
the  situation,  or  even  start  toward  the  stacked  muskets,  the 
Federal  column  broke  over  the  little  work,  between  our 
troops  and  their  arms,  bayonetted  or  shot  two  or  three  who 
were  asleep  before  they  could  even  awake,  and  dashed  upon 
the  men  crouched  over  their  low  fires — with  cooking  utensils 
instead  of  weapons  in  their  hands.  Of  course  they  ran. 
What  else  could  they  do  ? 

The  Howitzers — only  the  left,  or  Napoleon  section,  was 
there — sprang  to  their  guns,  swinging  them  around  to  bear 
inside  our  lines,  double-shotted  them  with  canister  and  fairly 
spouted  it  into  the  Federals,  whose  formation  had  been 
broken  in  the  rush  and  the  plunge  over  the  works,  and  who 
seemed  to  be  somewhat  massed  and  huddled  and  hesitating, 
but  only  a  few  rods  away.  Quicker  almost  than  I  can  tell 
it,  our  infantry  supports,  than  whom  there  were  not  two 
better  regiments  in  the  army,  had  rallied  and  gotten  to  their 
arms,  and  then  they  opened  out  into  a  V-shape,  and  fairly 
tore  the  head  of  the  Federal  column  to  pieces.  In  an  incredi- 
bly short  time  those  who  were  able  to  do  so  turned  to  fly  and 
our  infantry  were  following  them  over  the  intrenchments ; 
but  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  would  have  been  the  result 
had  it  not  been  for  the  prompt  and  gallant  action  of  the  ar- 
tillery. 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  255 

There  was  an  old  Captain  Hunter, — it  seems  difficult  to 
determine  whether  of  the  Texas  or  the  Georgia  regiment, — ■ 
who  had  the  handle  of  his  frying  pan  in  his  hand,  holding 
the  pan  over  the  hot  coals,  with  his  little  slice  of  meat  sizzling 
in  it,  when  the  enemy  broke  over.  He  had  his  back  to  them, 
and  the  first  thing  he  knew  his  men  were  scampering  past 
him  like  frightened  sheep.  He  had  not  been  accustomed  to 
that  style  of  movement  among  them,  and  he  sprang  up  and 
tore  after  them,  showering  them  with  hot  grease  and  hotter 
profanity,  but  never  letting  go  his  frying  pan.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  slapped  right  and  left  with  the  sooty,  burning  bot- 
tom, distributing  his  favors  impartially  on  Federal  and  Con- 
federate alike — several  of  his  own  men  bearing  the  black 
and  ugly  brand  on  their  cheeks  for  a  long  time  after  and  oc- 
casionally having  to  bear  also  the  captain's  curses  for  hav- 
ing made  him  lose  his  meat  that  evening.  He  actually  led 
the  counter-charge,  leaping  upon  the  works,  wielding  and 
waving  his  frying  pan,  at  once  as  sword  and  banner. 

When  it  became  evident  that  the  attack  had  failed,  I  sug- 
gested to  the  chaplain — who  happened  to  be  with  the  How- 
itzer guns,  perhaps  for  that  sundown  prayer  meeting  which 
Willy  Dame  mentioned — that  there  might  be  some  demand 
for  his  ministrations  where  the  enemy  had  broken  over ;  so 
we  walked  up  there  and  found  their  dead  and  dying  piled 
higher  than  the  works  themselves.  It  was  almost  dark,  but 
as  we  drew  near  we  saw  a  wounded  Federal  soldier  clutch 
the  pantaloons  of  Captain  Hunter,  who  at  that  moment  was 
passing  by,  frying  pan  in  hand,  and  heard  him  ask,  with 
intense  eagerness:  "Can  you  pray,  sir?  Can  you  pray?" 
The  old  captain  looked  down  at  him  with  a  peculiar  ex- 
pression, and  pulled  away,  saying,  "No,  my  friend,  I  don't 
wish  you  any  harm  now,  but  praying's  not  exactly  my 
trade." 

I  said  to  the  chaplain,  "Let's  go  to  that  man."  As  we 
came  up  he  caught  my  pants  in  the  same  way  and  uttered 
the  same  words:  "Can  you  pray,  sir?  Can  you  pray?"  I 
bent  over  the  poor  fellow,  turned  back  his  blouse,  and  saw 
that  a  large  canister  shot  had  passed  through  his  chest  at 
such  a  point  that  the  wound  must  necessarily  prove  mortal, 


256  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

and  that  soon.  We  both  knelt  down  by  him,  and  I  took  his 
hand  in  mine  and  said :  "My  friend,  you  haven't  much 
time  left  for  prayer,  but  if  you  will  say  after  me  just  these 
simple  words,  with  heart  as  well  as  lips,  all  will  be  well  with 
you :  'God  have  mercy  on  me,  a  sinner,  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.'  " 

I  never  saw  such  intensity  in  human  gaze,  nor  ever  heard 
such  intensity  in  human  voice,  as  in  the  gaze  and  voice  of 
that  dying  man  as  he  held  my  hand  and  looked  into  my 
face,  repeating  the  simple,  awful,  yet  reassuring  words  I  had 
dictated.  He  uttered  them  again  and  again,  with  the  death 
rattle  in  his  throat  and  the  death  tremor  in  his  frame,  until 
someone  shouted,  "They  are  coming  again!"  and  we  broke 
away  and  ran  down  to  the  guns.  It  proved  to  be  a  false 
alarm,  and  we  returned  immediately — but  he  was  dead,  yes, 
dead  and  half-stripped;  but  I  managed  to  get  my  hand  upon 
his  blouse  a  moment  and  looked  at  the  buttons.  He  was 
from  the  far-off  State  of  Maine. 

It  was  long  before  I  slept  that  night.  It  had  been  an 
unparalleled  day.  The  last  hour,  especially,  had  brought  to- 
gether elements  so  diverse  and  so  tremendous,  that  heart  and 
brain  were  overstrained  in  attempting  to  harmonize  and 
assimilate  them.  This  was  the  first  time  in  all  my  career  as 
a  soldier  that  I  had  heard  from  a  dying  man  on  the  battle- 
field any  expression  that  indicated  even  so  much  as  a  belief 
in  the  existence  of  any  other  world  than  this. 

What  did  it  all  mean?  When  that  Federal  soldier  and  I 
had  our  brief  conference  and  prayer  on  the  dividing  line  be- 
tween the  two  worlds,  neither  of  us  felt  the  slightest  tremor 
of  uncertainty  about  it.  To  both  of  us  the  other  world  was 
As  certainly  existing  as  this,  and  infinitely  greater.  Would 
I  ever  see  him  again?  If  so,  would  both  of  us  realize  that 
our  few  moments  of  communion  and  of  prayer  had  meant 
more  perhaps  than  all  the  struggles,  that  day,  of  the  great 
embattled  armies?  I  went  to  sleep  at  last  that  night,  as  I 
shall  go  this  night,  feeling  that  it  all  was  and  is  too  much 
for  me,  and  committing  myself  and  all  my  perplexities  to 
the  One  Being  who  is  "sufficient  for  these  things,"  and  able 
to  lead  us  safely  through  such  a  world  and  such  experiences. 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  257 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence  that  on  this  very  day,  the 
10th  of  May,  '64,  at  the  point  christened  two  days  later  as 
"The  Bloody  Angle,"  the  Second  Howitzers  rendered  a  serv- 
ice even  more  important  and  distinguished  perhaps  than  the 
gallant  conduct  of  the  First  Company  just  recorded ;  a  service 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  prominent  officers  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  facts  and  every  way  competent  and  quali- 
fied to  judge,  was  deemed  to  have  saved  General  Lee's  army 
from  being  cut  in  twain. 

There  is  one  other  feature  or  incident  of  the  closing  fight 
of  the  10th  of  May  which  may  be  worthy  of  record,  not 
alone  because  of  its  essentially  amusing  nature,  but  also 
because  of  a  very  pleasant  after-clap  or  remainder  of  it  later 
on.  There  were  two  men  in  the  First  Howitzers,  older  than 
most  of  us,  of  exceptionally  high  character  and  courage, 
who,  because  of  the  deafness  of  the  one  and  the  lack  of  a  cer- 
tain physical  flexibility  and  adaptation  in  the  other,  were  not 
well  fitted  for  regular  places  in  the  detachment  or  service 
about  the  gun.  For  a  time  one  or  both  of  them  took  the  po- 
sition of  driver,  but  this  scarcely  seemed  fitting,  and  finally 
they  were  both  classed  as  "supernumeraries,"  but  with  spe- 
cial duties  as  our  company  ambulance  corps,  having  charge, 
under  the  surgeon  of  the  battalion,  of  our  company  litters 
and  our  other  simple  medical  and  surgical  outfit.  For 
this  and  other  reasons,  the  elder  of  these  two  good  and  gritty 
soldiers  was  always  called  "Doctor." 

When  the  break  occurred  these  two  men,  always  on  the  ex- 
tremist forward  verge  of  our  battle  line,  were  overwhelmed 
with  amazement,  not  so  much  at  the  irruption  of  the  enemy, 
as  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  demoralized  rout  of  the  Geor- 
gians and  Texans.  They  ran  in  among  them  asking  explana- 
tion of  their  conduct,  then  appealing  to  them  and  exhort- 
ing them — the  Doctor  in  most  courteous  and  lofty  phrase : 
"Gentlemen,  what  does  this  mean?  You  certainly  are  not 
flying  before  the  enemy!  Turn,  for  God's  sake;  turn,  and 
drive  them  out !"  Then,  with  indignant  outburst :  "Halt ! 
you  infernal  cowards !"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word, 
these  choloric  cannoneers  tore  the  carrying  poles  out  of  their 
litters,  and  sprang  among  and  in  front  of  the  fugitives,  be- 


258  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

laboring  them  right  and  left,  till  they  turned,  and  then  turn- 
ed with  them,  following  up  the  retreating  enemy  with  their 
wooden  spears. 

Some  weeks  later,  after  we  had  reached  Petersburg,  in  the 
nick  of  time  to  keep  Burnside  out  of  the  town,  and  had 
taken  up  what  promised  to  be  a  permanent  position  and 
were  just  dozing  off  into  our  first  nap  in  forty-eight  hours, 
an  infantry  command  passing  by,  in  the  darkness,  stumbled 
over  the  trail  handspikes  of  our  guns  and  broke  out  in  the 
usual  style : 

"O,  of  course!  Here's  that  infernal  artillery  again;  al- 
ways in  the  way,  blocking  the  roads  by  day  and  tripping  us 
up  at  night.    What  battery  is  this,  any  way?" 

Some  fellow,  not  yet  clean  gone  in  slumber,  grunted  out : 

"First  Company,  Richmond  Howitzers." 

What  a  change !  Instantly  there  was  a  perfect  chorus  of 
greetings  from  the  warm-hearted  Texans. 

"Boys,  here  are  the  Howitzers !  Where's  your  old  deaf 
man?  Trot  out  your  old  Doctor.  They're  the  jockeys  for 
us.  We  are  going  to  stay  right  here.  We  won't  get  a 
chance  to  run  if  these  plucky  Howitzer  boys  are  with  us." 

Billy  tells  me  that  he  remembers,  word  for  word,  the  last 
crisp  sentence  Col.  Stephen  D.  Lee  uttered  the  morning  he 
complimented  the  old  battery  on  the  field  of  Frazier's  Farm ; 
that  he  said,  "Men,  hereafter  when  I  want  a  battery,  I'll 
know  where  to  get  one !"  Two  years  later,  at  the  base  of 
the  Bloody  Angle,  General  Ewell  seems  to  have  been  of  the 
same  opinion.  He  held  our  centre,  which  had  just  been 
pierced  and  smashed  and  his  artillery  captured.  He  wanted 
guns  to  stay  the  rout  and  steady  his  men,  and  he  sent  to  the 
extreme  left  for  Cabell's  Battalion.  I  do  not  mean  that  the 
old  battalion,  or  either  of  its  batteries,  was  counted  among 
the  most  brilliant  artillery  commands  of  the  army,  but  I  do 
claim  that  the  command  did  have  and  did  deserve  the  repu- 
tation of  "staying  where  it  was  put,"  and  of  doing  its  work 
reliably  and  well. 

The  nth  had  been  a  sort  of  off-day  with  us,  very  little 
business  doing;  but  the  12th  made  up  for  it.  As  I  remember, 
it  was  yet  early  on  the  morning  of  the  12th  that  we  were 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  259 

sent  for.  We  went  at  once,  and  did  not  stand  upon  the 
order  of  our  going,  though  I  think  two  guns  of  the  How- 
itzers led  the  column,  followed  by  two  guns  of  Carlton's 
battery,  the  Troupe  Artillery.  If  I  remember  correctly,  our 
other  guns  occupied  positions  on  the  line  from  which  they 
could  not  be  withdrawn.  As  Colonel  Cabell  and  I  rode 
ahead,  as  before  mentioned  in  another  connection,  to  learn 
precisely  where  the  guns  were  to  be  placed,  we  passed  Gen- 
eral Lee  on  horseback,  or  he  passed  us.  He  had  only  one  or 
two  attendants  with  him.  His  face  was  more  serious  than  I 
had  ever  seen  it,  but  showed  no  trace  of  excitement  or 
alarm.  Numbers  of  demoralized  men  were  streaming  past 
him  and  his  voice  was  deep  as  the  growl  of  a  tempest  as  he 
said:  "Shame  on  you,  men;  shame  on  you!  Go  back  to 
your  regiments ;  go  back  to  your  regiments  !" 

I  remember  thinking  at  the  moment  that  it  was  the  only 
time  I  ever  knew  his  faintest  wish  not  to  be  instantly  re- 
sponded to  by  his  troops;  but  something  I  have  since  read 
induces  me  to  question  whether  he  did  not  refer  to  some  spe- 
cial rendezvous,  somewhere  in  the  rear,  appointed  for  the 
remnants  of  the  shattered  commands  to  rally  to.  Be  this 
as  it  may,  every  soldier  of  experience  knows  that  when  a  man 
has  reached  a  certain  point  of  demoralization  and  until  he  has 
settled  down  again  past  that  point,  it  is  absolutely  useless  to 
attempt  to  rouse  him  to  a  sense  of  duty  or  of  honor.  I 
have  seen  many  a  man  substantially  in  the  condition  of  the 
fellow  who,  as  he  executed  a  flying  leap  over  the  musket  of 
the  guard  threatening  to  shoot  and  crying  "Halt !" — called 
back,  "Give  any  man  fifty  dollars  to  halt  me,  but  can't  halt 
myself!" 

When  we  came  back  to  our  four  guns  and  were  leading 
them  to  the  lines  and  the  positions  selected  for  them,  just 
as  we  were  turning  down  a  little  declivity,  we  passed  again 
within  a  few  feet  of  General  Lee,  seated  upon  his  horse  on 
the  crest  of  the  hill,  this  time  entirely  alone,  not  even  a 
courier  with  him.  I  was  much  impressed  with  the  calmness 
and  perfect  poise  of  his  bearing,  though  his  centre  had  just 
been  pierced  by  forty  thousand  men  and  the  fate  of  his  army 
trembled  in  the  balance.     He  was  completely  exposed  to  the 


260  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Federal  fire,  which  was  very  heavy.  A  half  dozen  of  our 
men  were  wounded  in  making  this  short  descent.  In  this 
connection  I  have  recently  heard  from  a  courier — who,  with 
others,  had  ridden  with  the  General  to  the  point  where  we 
saw  him — that,  observing  and  remarking  upon  the  peril  to 
which  they  were  subjected,  he  ordered  all  his  couriers  to 
protect  themselves  behind  an  old  brick  kiln,  some  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  to  the  left,  until  their  services  were  re- 
quired, but  refused  to  go  there  himself.  This  habit  of  ex- 
posing himself  to  fire,  as  they  sometimes  thought,  unnec- 
essarily, was  the  only  point  in  which  his  soldiers  felt  that 
Lee  ever  did  wrong.  The  superb  stories  of  the  several  oc- 
casions during  this  campaign  when  his  men  refused  to  ad- 
vance until  he  retired,  and,  with  tears  streaming  down  their 
faces,  led  his  horse  to  the  rear,  are  too  familiar  to  justify 
repetition,  especially  as  I  did  not  happen  to  be  an  eye-wit- 
ness of  either  of  these  impressive  scenes. 

Our  guns  were  put  in  at  the  left  base  of  the  Salient,  and 
there,  in  full  sight  and  but  a  short  distance  up  the  side  of 
the  angle,  stood  two  or  three  of  the  guns  from  which  our 
men  had  been  driven,  or  at  which  they  had  been  captured. 
The  Howitzers  had  two  clumsy  iron  three-inch  rifles,  and 
Captain  McCarthy  and  I  offered,  with  volunteers  from  that 
company,  to  draw  these  captured  guns  back  into  our  lines, 
provided  we  were  allowed  to  exchange  our  two  iron  guns 
for  two  of  these,  which  were  brass  Napoleons.  This  would 
have  given  the  battery  a  uniform  armament  and  prevented 
the  frequent  separation  of  the  sections.  There  was  not  at 
the  time  a  Federal  soldier  in  sight,  and  some  of  us  walked 
out  to  or  near  these  guns  without  being  fired  upon.  It  might 
have  been  a  perilous  undertaking,  yet  I  think  General  Ewell 
would  have  given  his  consent ;  but  the  officer  to  whose  com- 
mand the  guns  belonged  protested,  saying  he  would  himself 
have  them  drawn  off  later  in  the  day.  If  it  ever  could  have 
been  done,  the  opportunity  was  brief;  later  it  became  im- 
practicable, and  the  guns  were  permanently  lost. 

Barrett,  Colonel  Cabell's  plucky  little  courier,  rode  almost 
into  the  works  with  us,  and  we  had  left  our  horses  with 
him,  close  up,  but  in  a  position  which  we  thought  afforded 


**%;» 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  261 

some  protection.  In  a  few  moments  someone  shouted  to 
me  that  Barrett  was  calling  lustily  for  me.  I  ran  back 
where  I  had  left  him  and  was  distressed  to  see  my  good 
horse,  Mickey,  stretched  on  the  ground.  Barrett  said  he 
had  just  been  killed  by  a  piece  of  shell  which  struck  him  in 
the  head.  The  poor  fellow's  limbs  were  still  quivering.  I 
could  see  no  wound  of  any  consequence  about  the  head  or 
anywhere  else;  while  I  was  examining  him  he  shuddered 
violently,  sprang  up,  snorted  a  little  blood  and  was  again  "as 
good  as  new."  As  soon  as  practicable,  however,  we  sent  Bar- 
rett and  the  three  horses  behind  that  brick  kiln  back  on  the 
hill,  or  to  some  place  near  by  of  comparative  safety.  I  was 
afraid  that  Mickey,  who  seemed  to  have  "gotten  his  hand 
in,"  might  keep  up  this  trick  of  getting  "killed,"  as  Barrett 
said,  once  too  often.  I  may  as  well  say  right  here  that  the 
noble  horse  got  safely  through  the  war,  but  was  captured 
with  his  master  at  Sailor's  Creek. 

When  our  guns  first  entered  the  works,  or  rather  were  sta- 
tioned on  the  line  just  back  of  the  little  trench,  there  seemed 
to  be  comparatively  few  infantrymen  about.  One  thing  that 
pleased  us  greatly  was,  that  our  old  Mississippi  brigade, 
Barksdale's,  or  Humphreys',  was  supporting  us ;  but  it  must 
have  been  just  the  end  of  their  brigade  line,  and  a  very  thin 
line  it  was.  We  saw  nothing  of  the  major-general  of  our 
division.  General  Rodes,  of  Ewell's  corps,  was  the  only 
major-general  we  saw.  He  was  a  man  of  very  striking  ap- 
pearance, of  erect,  fine  figure  and  martial  bearing.  He  con- 
stantly passed  and  repassed  in  rear  of  our  guns,  riding 
a  black  horse  that  champed  his  bit  and  tossed  his  head 
proudly,  until  his  neck  and  shoulders  were  flecked  with  white 
froth,  seeming  to  be  conscious  that  he  carried  Caesar.  Rodes' 
eyes  were  everywhere,  and  every  now  and  then  he  would  stop 
to  attend  to  some  detail  of  the  arrangement  of  his  line  or  his 
troops,  and  then  ride  on  again,  humming  to  himself  and 
catching  the  ends  of  his  long,  tawny  moustache  between  his 
lips. 

It  had  rained  hard  all  night  and  was  drizzling  all  day, 
and  everything  was  wet,  soggy,  muddy,  and  comfortless. 
General  Ewell  made  his  headquarters  not  far  off,  and  seem- 


262  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

ed  busy  and  apprehensive,  and  we  gathered  from  everything 
we  saw  and  heard,  especially  from  General  Lee's  taking  his 
position  so  near,  that  he  and  his  generals  anticipated  a  re- 
newal of  the  attack  at  or  about  this  point.  From  the  time 
of  our  first  approach,  stragglers  from  various  commands  had 
been  streaming  past.  I  noticed  that  most  of  them  had  their 
arms  and  did  not  seem  to  be  very  badly  shattered,  and  I  tried 
hard  to  induce  some  of  them  to  turn  in  and  reinforce  our 
thin  infantry  line.  But  they  would  not  hearken  to  the  voice 
of  the  charmer,  charming  never  so  wisely,  and  finally  I  ap- 
pealed to  General  Rodes  and  asked  him  for  a  detail  of  men  to 
throw  off  a  short  line  at  right  angles  to  the  works  so  as  to 
catch  and  turn  in  these  stragglers.  He  readily  assented, 
and  we  soon  had  a  strong,  full  line,  though  at  first  neither 
Rodes'  own  men  nor  our  Mississippians  seemed  to  appreciate 
this  style  of  reinforcement. 

One  point  more,  with  regard  to  our  experience  at  the  left 
base  of  the  Salient,  and"  we  have  done  with  the  "Bloody 
Angle."  Every  soldier  who  was  there,  if  he  opens  his 
mouth  to  speak  or  takes  up  his  pen  to  write,  seems  to  feel  it 
solemnly  incumbent  upon  him  to  expatiate  upon  the  fearful 
fire  of  musketry.  What  I  have  to  say  about  the  matter  will 
doubtless  prove  surprising  and  disappointing  to  many;  but 
first  let  me  quote  Colonel  Taylor's  account  of  it,  from  pages 
130  and  131  of  his  invaluable  work,  so  frequently  referred 
to: 

*  *  *  The  army  was  thus  cut  in  twain,  and  the  situation  was  well 
calculated  to  test  the  skill  of  its  commander  and  the  nerve  and  courage 
of  the  men.  Dispositions  were  immediately  made  to  repair  the  breach, 
and  troops  were  moved  up  to  the  right  and  left  to  dispute  the  further 
progress  of  the  assaulting  column.  Then  occurred  the  most  remarkable 
musketry  fire  of  the  war — from  the  sides  of  the  Salient,  in  the  possession 
of  the  Federals,  and  the  new  line  forming  the  base  of  the  triangle,  occu- 
pied by  the  Confederates,  poured  forth  from  continuous  lines  of  hissing 
fire  an  incessant,  terrific  hail  of  deadly  missiles.  No  living  man  nor 
thing  could  stand  in  the  doomed  space  embraced  within  those  angry 
lines  ;  even  large  trees  were  felled,  their  trunks  cut  in  twain  by  the  bul- 
lets of  small  arms. 

Every  intelligent  soldier,  on  either  side,  is  aware  of  Colo- 
nel Taylor's  deserved  reputation  for  careful  and  unpreju- 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  263 

diced  observation  and  investigation,  and  for  correct  and  ac- 
curate statement,  and  General  Fitz  Lee,  in  his  "Life  of  Gen- 
eral Robert  E.  Lee,"  at  p.  335,  fully  agrees  with  him,  saying : 
"The  musketry  fire,  with  its  terrific  leaden  hail,  was  be- 
yond comparison  the  heaviest  of  the  four  years  of  war.  In 
the  bitter  struggle,  trees,  large  and  small,  fell,  cut  down  by 
bullets." 

Still,  I  am  bound  to  say  I  saw  nothing  that  approached 
a  justification  of  these  vivid  and  powerful  descriptions.  Of 
course  the  fire  was  at  times  heavy,  but  at  no  time,  in  front  of 
our  position,  did  it  approximate,  for  example,  the  intensity 
of  the  fire  during  the  great  attack  at  Cold  Harbor,  a  few 
weeks  later.  One  singular  feature  of  the  matter  is  that  we 
appear  to  have  been  at  the  very  place  and  the  very  time 
where  this  fire  is  said  to  have  occurred;  for  we  were  sent 
for  by  General  Ewell,  as  I  recollect,  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  1 2th,  and  we  remained  at  the  left  base  of  the  Salient  and 
within  sight  of  some  of  the  captured  guns  all  that  clay  and 
until  the  line  was  moved  back  out  of  the  bottom,  to  the  crest 
of  the  little  ridge  above  mentioned.  The  only  explanation  T 
can  suggest  is  that  the  fighting  must  have  been  much  hotter 
further  to  the  right. 

It  may  be  well  just  here  to  explain,  while  we  cannot  ex- 
cuse, the  existence  not  alone  of  the  great  Salient  of  Spottsyl- 
vania,  with  its  soldier  nickname  of  "Bloody  Angle,"  and  its 
fearful  lesson  of  calamity,  but  also  of  other  like  faulty  forma- 
tions in  our  Confederate  battle  lines. 

It  was  noticeable  toward  the  close  of  the  war  what  skilful, 
practical  engineers  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  had  become;  how  quickly  and  unerringly  they  de- 
tected and  how  unsparingly  they  condemned  an  untenable 
line — that  is,  where  they  were  unprejudiced  critics,  as  for  in- 
stance, where  fresh  troops  were  brought  in  to  reinforce  or 
relieve  a  command  already  in  position.  I  seem  to  hear, 
even  now,  their  slashing,  impudent,  outspoken  comment : 

"Boys,  what  infernal  fool  do  you  reckon  laid  out  this 
line?  Why,  anyone  can  see  we  can't  hold  it.  We  are  cer- 
tain to  be  enfiladed  on  this  flank,  and  the  Yankees  can  even 
take  us  in  reverse  over  yonder.  Let's  fall  back  to  that  ridge 
we  just  passed !" 


264  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

But  where  troops  had  themselves  originally  taken  posi- 
tion, it  was  a  very  different  matter.  This  was  one  point 
where  Johnny  was  disposed  to  be  unreasonable  and  insub- 
ordinate— not  to  consider  consequences  or  to  obey  orders. 
He  did  not  like  to  fall  back  from  any  position  he  had  himself 
established  by  hard  fighting,  especially  if  it  was  in  advance 
of  the  general  line.  So  well  recognized  was  his  attitude  in 
this  regard  that  it  had  well  nigh  passed  into  a  proverb : 

"No,  sir !  We  fought  for  this  dirt,  and  we're  going  to 
hold  it.  The  men  on  our  right  and  left  ought  to  be  here 
alongside  of  us,  and  would  be  if  they  had  fought  as  hard  as 
we  did !" 

Of  course,  Johnny  would  not  violate  or  forget  the  funda- 
mental maxim  of  geometry  and  war,  that  a  line  must  be  con- 
tinuous; that  his  right  must  be  somebody's  left  and  his  left 
somebody's  right;  but  the  furthest  he  would  go  in  recogni- 
tion of  the  maxim  was  the  compromise  of  bending  back  his 
Hanks,  so  as  to  connect  with  the  troops  on  his  right  and  left 
who  had  failed  to  keep  up.  So,  this  was  done,  he  did  not 
seem  to  care  how  irregular  the  general  line  of  battle  was. 
One  cannot  look  at  a  map  of  any  of  our  great  battles  without 
being  impressed  with  the  tortuous  character  of  our  lines. 

I  have  myself  heard  a  major-general  send  a  message  back 
to  Army  Headquarters,  by  a  staff  officer  of  General  Lee,  that 
he  didn't  see  why  his  division  should  be  expected  to  aban- 
don the  position  they  had  fought  for  just  to  accommodate 

General  ,  whose  troops  had  fallen  back  where  his 

had  driven  the  enemy.  On  that  very  occasion,  if  my  mem- 
ory serves  me,  this  selfish,  stupid  obstinacy  cost  us  the  lives 
of  hundreds  of  men. 

One  word  more  in  connection  with  the  straightening  of 
our  lines.  Of  course  we  moved  after  dark,  and,  as  I  re- 
member, but  a  short  distance.  After  we  got  to  our  new  po- 
sition I  discovered  that  I  had  lost  my  pocket-knife,  or  some 
such  trivial  article  of  personal  outfit,  but  difficult  to  replace ; 
so,  contrary  to  Colonel  Cabell's  advice — he  didn't  forbid  my 
going — I  went  back  on  foot  and  in  the  dark  to  look,  or 
feel,  for  it.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  spot  where  we 
had  been  lying,  and  began  to  grope  and  feel  about  for  the 


SPOTTSYLVANIA  265 

knife,  having  at  the  time  an  unpleasant  consciousness  that 
I  was  running  a  very  foolish  and  unjustifiable  risk,  for  the 
minies  were  hissing  and  singing  and  spatting  all  about  me. 
There  was  a  man  near  me,  also  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
looking  or  feeling  for  something.  While  glancing  at  the 
shape,  dimly  outlined,  I  heard  the  unmistakable  thud  of  a 
bullet  striking  flesh.  There  was  a  muffled  outcry,  and  the 
crouching  or  kneeling  figure  lay  stretched  upon  the  ground. 
1  went  to  it  and  felt  it.  The  man  was  dead.  In  a  very  brief 
time  I  was  back  in  our  new  position  and  not  thinking  of 
pocket-knives. 


CHAPTER  XX 

FROM    SPOTTSYLVANIA    TO    COLD    HARBOR 

Another  Slide  to  the  East,  and  Another,  and  Another — The  Armies 
Straining  Like  Two  Coursers,  Side  by  Side,  for  the  Next  Goal — 
Grant  Waiting  for  Reinforcements — Lee  Seriously  Indisposed — One 
of  His  Three  Corps  Commanders  Disabled  by  Wounds,  Another  by 
Sickness — Mickey  and  the  Children — "It  Beats  a  Furlough  Hollow" 
— A  Baby  in  Battle — Death  of  Lawrence  M.  Keitt  and  Demoraliza- 
tion of  His  Command — Splendid  Services  of  Lieut.  Robt.  Falligant, 
of  Georgia,  with  a  Single  Gun — Hot  Fighting  the  Evening  of  June 
1st — Building  Roads  and  Bridges  and  Getting  Ready  June  2d — 
Removal  of  Falligant's  Lone  Gun  at  Night. 

After  feeling  our  lines,  feinting  several  times,  and  mak- 
ing, on  the  1 8th,  what  might  perhaps  be  termed  a  genuine 
attack,  Grant,  on  the  evening  of  the  20th,  slid  off  toward 
Bowling  Green ;  but  although  he  got  a  little  the  start  of  Lee, 
yet,  when  he  reached  his  immediate  objective,  Lee  was  in 
line  of  battle  at  Hanover  Junction,  directly  across  the  line  of 
further  progress.  It  is  the  belief  of  many  intelligent  Con- 
federate officers  that  if  Lee  had  not  been  attacked  by  dis- 
abling disease,  the  movements  of  the  two  armies  about  the 
North  Anna  would  have  had  a  very  different  termination. 
Grant  ran  great  risk  in  taking  his  army  to  the  southern  bank 
of  the  river  with  Lee  on  the  stream  between  his  two  wings ; 
it  is  fair  to  add  that  he  seems  to  have  realized  his  peril  and  to 
have  withdrawn  in  good  time. 

General  Lee's  indisposition,  about  this  time,  was  really 
serious.  Some  of  us  will  never  forget  how  shocked  and 
alarmed  we  were  at  seeing  him  in  an  ambulance.  General 
Early,  in  his  address  before  mentioned,  says  of  this  matter : 

One  of  his  three  corps  commanders  had  been  disabled  by  wounds  at 
the  Wilderness,  and  another  was  too  sick  to  command  his  corps,  while 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  267 

he  himself  was  suffering  from  a  most  annoying  and  weakening  disease. 
In  fact  nothing  but  his  own  determined  will  enabled  him  to  keep  the  field 
at  all;  and  it  was  there  rendered  more  manifest  than  ever  that  he  was 
the  head  and  front,  the  very  life  and  soul  of  his  army. 

It  was  about  this  date  that  General  Lee,  as  I  remember  a 
second  time,  broached  the  idea  that  he  might  be  compelled  to 
retire — an  idea  which  no  one  else  could  contemplate  with  any 
sort  of  composure;  happily,  as  soon  as  the  disease  was  check- 
ed his  superb  physical  powers  came  to  his  aid,  and  he  soon 
rallied  and  regained  his  customary  vigor  and  spirits. 

Perhaps  no  other  position  of  equal  labor  and  responsibility 
can  be  mentioned,  nor  one  which  makes  such  drafts  upon 
human  strength  and  endurance,  as  the  command  of  a  great 
army  in  a  time  of  active  service.  I  recall  during  the  Gettys- 
burg campaign  being  equally  impressed  with  the  force  of 
this  general  proposition,  and  with  the  almost  incredible  phy- 
sical powers  of  General  Lee.  On  two  occasions,  just  before 
and  just  after  we  recrossed  the  Potomac,  I  was  sent  upon 
an  errand  which  required  my  visiting  army,  corps,  and  divi- 
sion headquarters,  and,  so  far  as  practicable,  seeing  the  re- 
spective commanding  officers  in  person.  On  the  first  round 
J  did  not  find  General  Lee  at  his  quarters,  and  was  told  that 
he  had  ridden  down  the  road  to  the  lines.  When  I  reached 
the  lines  I  heard  he  had  passed  out  in  front.  Following  him 
up,  I  found  him  in  the  rain  with  a  single  piece  of  horse  ar- 
tillery, feeling  the  enemy.  My  second  ride  was  made  largely 
at  night,  and,  as  I  remember,  every  officer  I  desired  to  see 
was  asleep,  except  at  Army  Headquarters,  where  I  found 
Colonel  Taylor  in  his  tent  on  his  knees,  with  his  prayer-book 
open  before  him,  and  General  Lee  in  his  tent,  wide-awake, 
poring  over  a  map  stretched  upon  a  temporary  table  of  rough 
plank,  with  a  tallow  candle  stuck  in  a  bottle  for  a  light.  I  re- 
member saying  to  myself,  as  I  delivered  my  message  and 
withdrew,  "Does  he  never,  never  sleep?" 

Again  General  Grant  slid  to  the  east,  and  we  moved  oft 
upon  a  parallel  line.  I  think  it  was  during  this  detour — or 
it  may  have  been  an  earlier  or  a  later  one — that  I  was  sent 
ahead,  upon  a  road  which  led  through  a  tract  of  country 


268  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

which  had  not  been  desolated  by  the  encampments  or  the 
battles  of  armies,  to  select  a  night's  resting  place  for  the  bat- 
talion. Forests  were  standing  untouched,  farm  lands  were 
protected  by  fences,  crops  were  green  and  untrampled,  birds 
were  singing,  flowers  blooming—Eden  everywhere.  Even  my 
horse  seemed  to  feel  the  change  from  the  crowded  roads,  the 
deadly  lines,  the  dust,  the  dirt,  the  mud,  the  blood,  the  horror. 
We  were  passing  through  a  quiet  wood  at  a  brisk  walk,  when 
suddenly  he  roused  himself  and  quickened  his  gait,  breaking 
of  his  own  accord  into  a  long  trot,  his  beautiful,  sensitive 
ears  playing  back  and  forth  in  the  unmistakable  way  which, 
in  a  fine  horse,  indicates  that  he  catches  sounds  interesting 
and  agreeable  to  him.  It  was,  perhaps,  several  hundred 
yards  before  we  swung  around  out  of  the  forest  into  the  open 
land  where  stood  a  comfortable  farm  house,  and  there  in  a 
sweet  and  sunny  corner  were  several  chubby  little  children 
chatting  and  singing  at  their  play.  Mickey,  dear  old  Mickey, 
trotted  right  up  to  the  little  people,  with  low  whinnies  of 
recognition  and  delight,  and  rubbed  his  head  against  them. 
They  did  not  seem  at  all  afraid,  but  pulled  nice  tufts  of 
grass  for  him,  which  he  ate  with  evident  relish  and  gratitude. 

If  I  remember  correctly,  it  was  the  evening  of  the  same 
day,  after  Mickey  and  I  had  kissed  and  left  the  children,  and 
I  had  found  a  beautiful  camping  ground  for  the  battalion — 
a  succession  of  little  swells  of  land  crowned  with  pine  copses 
and  covered  with  broom-sedge,  with  a  clear,  cool  stream 
flowing  between  the  hills ;  and  after  the  batteries  were  all  up 
and  located  in  this  soldier  paradise — guns  parked,  horses 
watered  and  fed  and  all  work  done — I  say,  I  think  it  was 
after  all  this,  that  the  bugles  of  each  of  the  batteries  blew 
such  sweet  and  happy  notes  as  I  never  heard  from  any  one 
of  them  before,  and  then,  while  I  was  lying  on  the  broom- 
sedge,  bathing  my  soul  in  this  peace,  and  Mickey  was  brows- 
ing near-by,  over  across  the  stream,  the  Howitzer  Glee  Club 
launched  out  into  a  song,  the  first  they  had  sung  since  we 
broke  camp  at  Morton's  Ford,  three  weeks  before. 

As  the  song  ceased  and  the  day  was  fading  into  the  twi- 
light, I  caught,  up  the  road,  the  low  murmur  of  conversa- 
tion and  the  rattle  of  canteens,  and  following  the  sound 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  269 

with  my  eye,  saw  two  infantrymen,  from  a  command  that 
had  followed  us  and  camped  further  back  from  the  stream, 
wending  their  way  to  water.  Just  as  they  came  fully  within 
sight  and  hearing,  two  of  the  Howitzer  Club  struck  up 
"What  are  the  Wild  Waves  Saying?" — one  of  them,  in  a 
fine  falsetto,  taking  the  sister's  part.  As  the  clear,  sweet  fe- 
male voice  floated  out  on  the  still  evening  air  my  two  in- 
fantrymen stood  transfixed,  one  putting  his  hand  upon  the 
other's  arm  and  saying  with  suppressed  excitement,  "Stop, 
man;  there's  a  woman!"  They  were  absolutely  silent  dur- 
ing the  singing  of  the  sister's  part,  but  when  the  brother 
took  up  the  song  they  openly  wondered  whether  she  would 
sing  again.    "Yes,  there  she  is ;  listen,  listen !" 

And  so,  until  the  song  was  done,  and  they  had  waited,  and 
it  had  become  evident  she  would  sing  no  more — and  then  a 
deep  sigh  from  both  the  spell-bound  auditors,  and  one  of 
them,  making  use  of  the  strongest  figure  he  could  command, 
exclaimed,  from  the  bottom  of  a  full  heart,  "Well,  it  beats  a 
furlough  hollow !" 

We  almost  began  to  hope  that  Grant  had  gotten  enough. 
Even  his  apparent,  yes,  real,  success  at  the  Salient  did  not 
embolden  him  to  attack  again  at  Spottsylvania.  He  had  re- 
tired without  any  serious  fighting  at  Hanover  Junction  or 
North  Anna,  and  after  feeling  our  position  about  Atlee's, 
he  had  once  more  slipped  away  from  our  front.  Where  was 
he  going  ?  What  did  he  intend  to  do  ?  Anyone  of  his  prede- 
cessors would  have  retired  and  given  it  up  long  ago.  Was 
he  about  to  do  so  ? 

The  fact  is,  Grant  was  waiting  for  reinforcements.  He 
had  been  heavily  reinforced  at  Spottsylvania  after  the  12th 
of  May,  but  not  up  to  the  measure  of  his  desires,  or  of  his 
needs,  either;  for  he  really  needed  more  men — and  more, 
and  more.  He  needed  them,  he  asked  for  them,  and  he  got 
them.  He  had  a  right  to  all  he  wanted.  His  original  con- 
tract so  provided ;  it  covered  all  necessary  drafts.  He  want- 
ed especially  Baldy  Smith  and  his  men  from  the  transports, 
and  they  were  coming.  They  were  stretching  out  hands  to 
each  other.  When  they  clasped  hands,  then  Grant  would  at- 
tack once  more;  would  make  his  great  final  effort.  When 
and  where  would  it  be  ? 


270  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

When  Grant  slid  away  from  Lee  at  Atlee's,  we  felt  satis- 
fied that  he  was,  as  usual,  making  for  the  south  and  east,  so 
Hoke  was  ordered  toward  Cold  Harbor,  and  Kershaw  (now 
our  division  general,  McLaws  never  having  returned  from 
the  West)  toward  Beulah  Church.  Colonel  Cabell  received 
orders  on  the  evening  of  the  31st  of  May,  or  early  on  the 
morning  of  the  1st  of  June,  to  make  for  the  latter  point;  but 
he  was  not  upon  the  same  road  as  Kershaw's  division,  and 
our  orders  said  nothing  about  joining  it.  They  seemed  to 
contemplate  our  going  by  the  most  direct  route,  and  we  went 
— that  is,  as  far  as  we  could.  No  infantry  apparently  had  re- 
ceived any  orders  to  go  with  us,  certainly  none  went,  and 
we  soon  passed  beyond  the  apparent  end  of  our  infantry  line, 
at  least  on  the  road  we  were  traveling.  Very  soon  we 
reached  a  stout  infantry  picket,  which  I  interviewed,  and 
they  said  there  were  no  Confederate  troops  down  that  road, 
unless  perhaps  a  few  cavalry  videttes. 

I  was  on  very  intimate  terms  with  my  colonel,  and  I  went 
to  him  and  suggested  whether  there  was  not  danger  in  our 
proceeding  as  we  were,  a  battalion  of  artillery  unaccompa- 
nied by  infantry,  out  and  beyond  the  last  picket  post.  The 
colonel  was  a  strict  constructionist,  and  he  shut  me  up  at 
once  by  saying :  "Stiles,  that  is  the  responsibility  of  the 
general  officer  who  sent  me  my  orders.  I  am  ordered  to 
Beulah  Church  and  to  Beulah  Church  I  am  going.  This  is 
the  nearest  road."  I  looked  up  at  him  in  some  little  surprise, 
but  said  no  more;  having  fired,  I  now  fell  back  on  my  re- 
serves, in  pretty  fair  order,  but  slightly  demoralized. 

My  reserves  were  the  officers  and  men  of  the  battalion,  all 
of  whom  I  think  were  fond  of  me.  If  I  mistake  not,  Fra- 
zier's  battery  led  the  column.  I  am  certain  it  did  a  little 
later.  Calloway,  its  commanding  officer,  to  whom  we  have 
already  been  introduced,  was  one  of  the  very  best  of  soldiers, 
as  the  reader  will  soon  be  prepared  to  admit.  He  was  the 
first  man  I  fell  in  with  as  I  fell  back,  Colonel  Cabell  and  little 
Barrett,  his  courier,  being  ahead  of  the  column.  Calloway 
asked  me  if  I  didn't  think  we  were  running  some  risk,  en- 
tirely unsupported  as  we  seemed  to  be,  and  outside  our  lines. 
I  told  him  what  had  occurred,  and  he  smiled  grimly. 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  27  I 

Then  I  fell  back  further  to  the  old  battery.  The  column 
was  pretty  well  closed  up  that  morning;  everybody  seemed 
to  feel  it  well  to  be  so.  I  was  strongly  attached  to  the  old 
company  and  particularly  to  the  captain,  who  was  a  magnifi- 
cent fellow.  It  was  early  on  a  beautiful  spring  morning, 
and  we  were  again  passing  through  a  tract  of  undesolated, 
undesecrated  country — greenness,  quiet,  the  song  of  birds, 
the  scent  of  flowers,  all  about  us.  Captain  McCarthy  was 
on  foot,  walking  among  his  men,  his  great  arms  frequently 
around  the  necks  of  two  of  them  at  once — a  position  which 
displayed  his  martial,  manly  figure  to  great  advantage.  I 
dismounted,  one  of  the  fellows  mounting  my  horse,  and 
walked  and,  talked  and  chatted  with  the  men,  and  particu- 
larly with  the  captain. 

He  was  altogether  an  uncommon  person,  marked  by  great 
simplicity,  sincerity,  kindliness,  courage,  good  sense,  per- 
sonal force,  and  a  genius  for  commanding  men.  He  had 
been  rather  a  reckless,  pugnacious  boy,  difficult  to  manage, 
impatient  of  control.  The  war  had  proved  a  real  blessing 
to  him.  It  let  off  the  surplus  fire  and  fight.  Its  deep  and 
powerful  undertone  was  just  what  was  needed  to  harmonize 
his  nature.  His  spirit  had  really  been  balanced  and  gentled 
and  sweetened  by  it.  He  was  not  essentially  an  intellectual 
man,  nor  yet  a  man  of  broad  education,  and  he  had  under 
him  some  of  the  most  intellectual  and  cultivated  young  men 
I  ever  met,  yet  he  was  easily  their  leader  and  commander ; 
in  the  matter  of  control  and  for  the  business  in  hand,  "from 
his  shoulders  and  upward,  taller  than  any  of  the  people." 
And  these  intellectual  and  cultivated  men  freely  recognized 
his  supremacy  and  admired  and  loved  him.  He  seemed  to 
be  somewhat  subdued  and  quiet  that  morning ;  even  more 
than  ordinarily  affectionate  and  demonstrative,  but  not 
cheerful  or  chatty.  Several  of  us  noticed  his  unusual  bear- 
ing and  speculated  as  to  the  cause. 

As  the  morning  wore  on  and  we  were  leaving  our  in- 
fantry further  and  further  behind,  my  uneasiness  returned ; 
and  besides,  I  had  been  away  long  enough  from  the  colonel, 
so  I  remounted  and  rode  forward  to  the  head  of  the  column. 
He  had  been  very  emphatic  in  repelling  my  suggestions,  but 


272  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

1  thought  it  my  duty  to  renew  them,  and  I  did.  He  was 
even  more  emphatic  than  before,  saying  he  had  been  ordered 
to  take  that  battalion  to  Beulah  Church,  and  he  proposed 
to  do  it,  and  he  even  added  that  when  he  wanted  any  advice 
from  me  he  would  ask  it.  I  felt  a  nearer  approach  to  heat 
than  ever  before  or  after,  in  all  my  intercourse  with  my 
friend  and  commander,  and  I  assured  him  I  would  not  ob- 
trude my  advice  again. 

I  reined  in  my  horse,  waiting  for  Calloway,  and  rode  with 
him  at  the  head  of  his  battery.  I  had  scarcely  joined  him, 
when  Colonels  Fairfax  and  Latrobe,  of  Longstreet's  staff", 
and  Captain  Simonton,  of  Pickett's,  dashed  by,  splendidly 
mounted,  and  disappeared  in  a  body  of  woods  but  a  few 
hundred  yards  ahead.  Hardly  had  they  done  so,  when  pop ! 
pop !  pop !  went  a  half  dozen  carbines  and  revolvers ;  and  a 
moment  later  the  three  officers  galloped  back  out  of  the  for- 
est, driving  before  them  two  or  three  Federal  cavalrymen 
on  foot — Simonton  leaning  over  his  horse's  head  and  strik- 
ing at  them  with  his  riding  whip.  On  the  instant  I  took  my 
revenge,  riding  up  to  Colonel  Cabell,  taking  off  my  hat  with 
a  profound  bow,  and  asking  whether  it  was  still  his  intention 
to  push  right  on  to  Beulah  Church?  Meanwhile,  minie 
balls  began  to  drop  in  on  us,  evidently  fired  by  sharpshooters 
from  a  house  a  short  distance  to  our  left  and  front.  The 
Colonel  turned  toward  me  with  a  smile,  and  said,  in  a  tone 
that  took  all  the  sting  out  of  his  former  words,  if  any  was 
ever  intended  to  be  in  them :  "Yes,  you  impudent  fellow,  it 
is  my  intention,  but  let's  see  how  quickly  you  can  drive  those 
sharpshooters  out  of  that  house !" 

Scarce  sooner  said  than  done.  I  sprang  from  my  horse. 
Calloway's  guns  were  in  battery  on  the  instant,  I,  by  his 
permission,  taking  charge  of  his  first  piece  as  gunner.  Mak- 
ing a  quick  estimate  of  the  distance,  I  shouted  back  to  No.  6 
at  how  many  seconds  to  cut  the  fuse,  and  the  shell  reached 
the  gun  almost  as  soon  as  I  did.  A  moment — and  the  gun  was 
loaded,  aimed  and  fired ;  a  moment  more  and  the  house  burst 
into  flame.  The  shell  from  the  other  three  guns  were  ex- 
ploded among  the  retiring  skirmishers,  who  ran  back  toward 
the  woods;  while  from  the  side  of  the  house  nearest  to  us 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  273 

two  women  came  out,  one  very  stout  and  walking  with 
difficulty,  the  other  bearing  a  baby  in  her  arms  and  two 
little  children  following  her.  Calling  to  the  gunner  to 
take  charge  of  his  piece,  I  broke  for  these  women,  three  or 
four  of  the  men  running  with  me.  There  was  a  fence  be- 
tween us  and  them  that  could  not  have  been  less  than  four 
and  a  half  feet  high,  which  I  cleared,  "hair  and  hough," 
while  the  rest  stopped  to  climb  it.  I  took  the  baby  and 
dragged  the  youngest  child  along  with  me,  telling  the  other 
to  come  on,  and  sent  the  younger  woman  back  to  help  the 
elder.  When  the  reinforcements  arrived  we  re-arranged  our 
convoys,  I  still  keeping  the  baby.  By  the  time  we  reached  the 
battery  more  of  the  guns  were  in  action,  shelling  the  woods, 
and  I  became  interested  in  the  firing.  The  number  fives  as 
they  ran  by  me  with  the  ammunition  would  stop  a  moment 
to  pat  the  baby,  who  was  quite  satisfied,  and  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  racket,  cooing  and  trying  to  pull  my  short  hair  and 
beard.  This  thing  had  been  going  on  for  several  minutes, 
and  I  had  not  been  conscious  of  any  appeal  to  me,  until  one 
of  the  men  ran  up,  and,  pulling  me  sharply  around,  pointed 
to  the  two  women,  who  were  standing  back  down  the  hill, 
and  as  far  as  possible  out  of  the  line  of  the  bullets,  which 
were  still  annoying  us.  There  was  a  rousing  laugh  and 
cheer  as  I  started  back  to  deliver  the  little  infant  artillery- 
man to  his  mother.  It  turned  out  that  the  elder  of  the  two 
women  was  the  mother  of  the  other,  and  had  been  bedridden 
for  several  years.  We  were  exceedingly  sorry  to  have  burn- 
ed their  little  house,  but  some  of  the  boys  suggested  that  if 
the  cure  of  the  mother  proved  permanent,  the  balance,  after 
all,  might  be  considered  rather  in  our  favor. 

I  do  not  recall  the  events  of  the  next  few  hours  with  any 
distinctness,  or  in  any  orderly  sequence,  nor  how  we  got 
into  connection  with  our  division,  Kershaw's ;  but  we  did  so 
without  serious  mishap;  so,  perhaps.  Colonel  Cabell  may 
have  been  more  nearly  right  than  I  after  all.  The  first  defi- 
nite recollection  I  have,  after  what  I  have  just  related,  is  of 
the  breaking  of  Col.  Lawrence  M.  Keitt's  big  South  Caro- 
lina regiment,  which  had  just  come  to  the  army  and  been  en- 
tered in  Kershaw's  old  brigade,  and  probably  outnumbered 


274  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

all  the  balance  of  that  command.  General  Kershaw  had  put 
this  and  another  of  his  brigades  into  action  not  far  from 
where  we  had  burned  the  house  to  dislodge  the  skirmishers. 
Keitt's  men  gave  ground,  and  in  attempting  to  rally  them 
their  colonel  fell  mortally  wounded.  Thereupon  the  regi- 
ment went  to  pieces  in  abject  rout  and  threatened  to  over- 
whelm the  rest  of  the  brigade.  I  have  never  seen  any  body 
of  troops  in  such  a  condition  of  utter  demoralization;  they 
actually  groveled  upon  the  ground  and  attempted  to  burrow 
under  each  other  in  holes  and  depressions.  Major  Goggin, 
the  stalwart  adjutant-general  of  the  division,  was  attempt- 
ing to  rally  them,  and  I  did  what  I  could  to  help  him.  It 
was  of  no  avail.  We  actually  spurred  our  horses  upon 
them,  and  seemed  to  hear  their  very  bones  crack,  but  it  did 
no  good ;  if  compelled  to  wriggle  out  of  one  hole  they  wrig- 
gled into  another. 

So  far  as  I  recollect,  however,  this  affair  was  of  no  real 
significance.  Our  other  troops  stood  firm,  and  we  lost  no 
ground.  I  think  none  of  the  guns  of  the  battery  were  en- 
gaged. Meanwhile  the  three  divisions  of  our  corps — the 
First,  since  Longstreet's  wounding,  under  command  of 
Major-General  R.  H.  Anderson — had  settled  into  alignment 
in  the  following  order,  beginning  from  the  left :  Field,  Pick- 
ett, Kershaw.  On  the  right  of  Kershaw's  was  Hoke's 
division,  which  had  been  under  Beauregard  and  had  joined 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  only  the  night  before.  The 
ground  upon  which  our  troops  had  thus  felt  and  fought  their 
way  into  line  was  the  historic  field  of  Cold  Harbor,  and  the 
day  was  the  first  of  June,  1864. 

In  the  afternoon  a  furious  attack  was  made  on  the  left 
of  Hoke  and  right  of  Kershaw ;  and  Clingman's,  the  left 
brigade  of  Floke  and  Wofford's,  the  right  brigade  of  Ker- 
shaw gave  Avay,  and  the  Federal  troops  poured  into  the  gap 
over  a  marshy  piece  of  ground  which  had  not  been  properly 
covered  by  either  of  these  two  brigades.  Both  Field  and 
Pickett  sent  aid  to  Kershaw,  and  several  of  the  guns  of 
our  battalion — I  am  not  sure  of  which  batteries,  though  I 
think  two  belonged  to  the  Howitzers,  came  into  battery  on 
the  edge  of  a  peach  orchard  which  sloped  down  to  the  break. 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  275 

and  poured  in  a  hot  enfilade  fire  on  the  victorious  Federals, 
who,  after  a  manly  struggle,  were  driven  back,  though  we 
did  not  quite  regain  all  we  had  lost,  and  our  lines  were  left  in 
very  bad  shape. 

While  Wofford  was  bending  back  the  right  of  his  line  to 
connect  with  Hoke,  who,  even  with  the  aid  sent  him,  had 
not  quite  succeeded  in  regaining  his  original  position,  Ker- 
shaw's old  brigade,  which  had  more  perfectly  recovered  from 
its  little  contretemps,  was  pressing  and  driving  the  enemy, 
both  advancing  and  extending  its  line  upon  higher  and  bet- 
ter ground,  a  feat  it  would  never  have  been  able  to  accom- 
plish but  for  the  aid  of  one  of  Calloway's  guns,  which,  under 
command  of  Lieutenant  Robert  Falligant,  of  Savannah,  Ga., 
held  and  carried  the  right  flank  of  the  brigade,  coming  into 
battery  and  fighting  fiercely  whenever  the  enemy  seemed  to 
be  holding  the  brigade  in  check,  and  limbering  up  and  mov- 
ing forward  with  it,  while  it  was  advancing;  and  this  alter- 
nate advancing  and  firing  was  kept  up  until  a  fresh  Federal 
force  came  in  and  opened  fire  on  the  right  flank,  and  all  of 
Falligant's  horses  fell  at  the  first  volley.  The  enemy  made 
a  gallant  rush  for  the  piece,  but  they  did  not  get  it.  It  was 
in  battery  in  a  moment  and  belching  fire  like  a  volcano,  and 
very  hot  shot,  too.  The  brigade,  whose  flank  it  had  held, 
now  sprang  to  its  defense,  and  after  a  furious  little  fight  the 
gun  was  for  the  present  safe,  and  everyone  began  to  dig  and 
to  pile  up  dirt. 

The  brigade  did  not,  however,  advance  one  foot  after 
Falligant's  horses  were  shot ;  but  it  was  already  considerably 
in  advance  of  Wofford's  left,  with  which  it  was  not  con- 
nected at  all,  until  the  entire  line  was  rectified  on  the  night  of 
the  2d — nor  was  there  at  any  time  a  Confederate  infantry 
soldier  to  the  right  of  this  piece,  nor  a  spadeful  of  earth,  ex- 
cept the  little  traverse  we  threw  up  to  protect  the  right  of  the 
gun.  It  may  just  as  well  be  added  now  that  this  lone  gun 
held  the  right  of  Kershaw's  brigade  line  that  evening  and 
night — it  was  getting  dark  when  the  extreme  advanced  posi- 
tion was  reached — and  all  the  next  day,  and  was  moved  back 
by  hand  the  night  of  the  2d  of  June.  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
saying  that  in  all  my  experience  as  a  soldier  I  never  wit- 


276  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

nessed  more  gallant  action  than  this  of  Lieutenant  Fal- 
ligant  and  his  dauntless  cannoneers,  nor  do  I  believe  that 
any  officer  of  his  rank  made  a  more  important  contribution 
than  he  to  the  success  of  the  Confederate  arms  in  the  great 
historic  battle. 

Both  sides  anticipated  battle  on  the  3d,  as  it  really  oc- 
curred. General  Grant  in  his  memoirs  says  in  express  terms, 
"The  2d  of  June  was  spent  in  getting  troops  into  position  for 
attack  on  the  3d;"  and  the  "Official  Journal"  of  our  corps 
says,  under  date  of  June  3d,  "The  expected  battle  begins 
early."  This  journal  also  notes  the  weakness  of  "Kershaw's 
Salient,"  and  that  the  enemy  was  aware  of  it,  and  was  "mass- 
ing heavily"  in  front  of  it.  Three  brigades  were  sent  to  sup- 
port Kershaw — Anderson's,  Gregg's,  and  Law's.  We  also 
set  to  work  to  rectify  the  lines  about  this  point.  Gen.  E.  M. 
Law,  of  Alabama,  is  probably  entitled  to  the  credit  of  this 
suggestion,  which  had  so  important  a  bearing  upon  our 
success.  He  laid  off  the  new  line  with  his  own  hand 
and  superintended  the  construction  of  it  during  the  night 
of  the  2d.  The  record  of  the  3d  might  have  been  a  very  dif- 
ferent one  if  this  change  had  not  been  made.  Under  Colonel 
Cabell's  instructions  and  with  the  aid  of  the  division  pioneer 
corps,  I  opened  roads  through  the  woods  for  the  more  rapid 
and  convenient  transmission  of  artillery  ammunition,  and 
put  up  two  or  three  little  bridges  across  ravines  with  the 
same  view. 

While  I  was  superintending  this  work,  the  fire  at  the  time 
being  lively,  I  heard  someone  calling  in  a  most  lugubrious 
voice,  "Mister,  Mister,  won't  you  please  come  here!"  I 
glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  cry  and  saw  a  man  stand- 
ing behind  a  large  tree  in  a  very  peculiar  attitude,  having 
the  muzzle  of  his  musket  under  his  left  shoulder  and  lean- 
ing heavily  upon  it.  Supposing  he  was  wounded,  I  went  to 
him  and  asked  what  he  wanted.  He  pointed  to  the  butt  of 
his  gun,  under  which  a  large,  vigorous,  venomous  copper- 
head snake  was  writhing-;  and  the  wretched  skulker  actually 
had  the  face  to  whine  to  me,  "Won't  you  please,  sir,  kill 
that  snake?"  I  knew  not  what  to  say  to  the  creature,  and 
fear  what  I  did  say  was  neither  a  very  Christian  nor  a  very 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  277 

soldierly  response ;  but  no  one  who  has  not  seen  a  thoroughly 
demoralized  man  can  form  the  slightest  conception  of  how 
repulsive  a  thing  such  a  wretch  is. 

The  headquarters  of  General  Kershaw  at  Cold  Harbor 
was  close  up  to  the  lines  and  just  back  of  the  position  of 
some  of  our  guns.  It  was  but  a  short  distance,  too,  from 
where  the  caissons  bringing  in  ammunition  turned  to  the 
right,  on  a  road  I  had  cut,  running  along  the  slope  of  a  de- 
clivity at  the  crest  of  which  our  guns  were  stationed,  some 
of  them  before  and'all  of  them  after  the  lines  were  rectified. 
He  might  have  found  a  safer  place,  but  none  nearer  the  point 
of  peril  and  the  working  point  of  everything.  The  position, 
however,  was  so  exposed  that  he  found  himself  compelled 
to  protect  it,  which  he  did  by  putting  up  a  heavy  wall  of 
logs,  back  of  which  the  earth  was  cut  away  and  pitched  over 
against  the  face,  which  was  toward  the  lines.  His  quarters 
were  thus  cut  deep  into  the  hillside,  and  had  besides,  above 
the  surface  and  toward  the  enemy,  this  wall  of  logs  faced 
with  earth.  Thus  he  had  a  place  where  he  and  his  officers 
could  safely  confer  and  at  a  very  short  distance  from 
their  commands ;  but  it  was  after  all  a  ghastly  place,  and  very 
difficult  and  dangerous  of  approach.  All  the  roads  or  paths 
leading  to  it  were  not  only  swept  by  an  almost  continuous 
and  heavy  fire  of  musketry,  but  I  had  to  keep  a  force  of 
axe-men  almost  constantly  at  work  cutting  away  trees  felled 
across  the  ammunition  roads  by  the  artillery  fire  of  the 
enemy.  Col.  Charles  S.  Venable,  reputed  to  be  one  of  the 
roughest  and  most  daring  riders  on  General  Lee's  staff, — 
later,  professor  of  mathematics  at  the  University  of  Virginia, 
and  chairman  of  the  faculty, — told  me  he  believed  this  head- 
quarter position  of  Kershaw's  at  Cold  Harbor  was  the 
worst  place  he  was  ever  sent  to.  Colonel  Cabell  was  neces- 
sarily a  great  part  of  the  time  at  these  headquarters,  and  I 
also,  when  not  engaged  at  some  special  work,  or  with  some 
of  the  guns,  or  on  the  way  from  one  to  another.  At  Cold 
Harbor  these  journeys  had  to  be  made  on  foot,  and  neces- 
sarily consumed  a  good  deal  of  time,  an  artillery  battalion 
frequently  covering,  say,  half  a  mile  of  the  line. 

Up  to  the  night  of  the  2d  of  June,  when  it  was  moved 
back,  every  time  Falligant's  gun  fired  while  I  was  at  head- 


278  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

quarters,  General  Kershaw  would  repeat  his  admiration  of 
his  courage,  and  ask  me  to  explain  to  him  again  and  again 
the  isolated  and  exposed  position  of  the  piece,  and  then  he 
would  express  his  determination  that  Falligant's  gallantry 
and  services  should  receive  their  merited  reward.  Once, 
when  I  happened  to  be  there,  a  soldier  from  a  South  Caro- 
lina regiment  in  Kershaw's  old  brigade,  one  of  those  sup- 
porting Falligant's  gun,  came  in,  reporting  that  his  part  of 
the  line  was  almost  out  of  ammunition,  and  asking  that 
some  be  sent  in  at  once.  He  may  have  had  a  written  order, 
but  at  all  events  he  represented  that  the  case  was  urgent; 
that  they  could  not  trust  to  getting  it  into  the  line  at  some 
safe  point  and  having  it  passed  along  by  hand,  because  it 
would  take  too  long,  and  besides  all  the  troops  were  scantily 
supplied  and  it  would  never  get  to  his  regiment ;  and  lastly, 
because  the  officer  who  sent  him  had  ordered  him  to  bring  it 
himself.  The  man  was  intelligent,  self-possessed,  and  deter- 
mined. I  well  remember,  too,  how  pale  and  worn  and  pow- 
der-begrimed he  looked.  He  confirmed  all  I  had  said  as  to 
the  position  and  services  of  Falligant's  gun,  and  was  en- 
thusiastic about  him  and  his  detachment. 

I  told  him  I  was  going  down  there  and  would  help  him. 
Boxes  of  ammunition  were  piled  up  in  a  corner  of  the  cellar, 
as  it  might  be  called,  in  which  we  were  sitting,  and  we 
knocked  the  top  from  one,  and  putting  two  good,  strong 
oilcloths  together,  poured  into  them  as  many  cartridges  as 
either  of  us  could  conveniently  carry  at  a  pretty  good  rate  of 
speed.  We  then  tied  up  the  cloths,  making  a  bag  of  double 
thickness  and  having  two  ends  to  hold  by.  Together  we 
could  run  quite  rapidly  with  it,  and  in  case  either  of  us 
should  be  killed  or  wounded,  the  other  could  get  along 
fairly  well.  We  then  took  the  course  I  had  already  several 
times  taken  in  reaching  the  gun — that  is,  we  went  down  be- 
hind WofTord's  left  flank,  and  from  that  point  ran  across  a 
field  covered  with  scattering  sassafras  bushes,  to  a  point  on 
Kershaw's  line,  a  little  to  the  left  of  our  gun.  This  route  af- 
forded the  best  protection,  but  after  we  left  WofTord's  posi- 
tion the  "protection"  amounted  to  nothing.  The  sharpshoot- 
ers had  two-thirds  of  a  circle  of  fire  around  the  piece,  and 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  279 

they  popped  merrily  at  us  as  we  stepped  across  the  field,  but 
they  never  touched  either  of  us ;  we  got  in  safe  and  each  of  us 
"counted  a  coup,"  as  the  French  Canadian  trappers  used  to 
say. 

After  shaking  hands  with  the  infantry,  hearing  my  plucky 
comrade  complimented  on  his  quick  and  successful  trip,  and 
seeing-  the  men  draw  their  rations  of  powder  and  ball,  I  made 
my  way  to  the  gun,  told  Bob  and  his  gallant  detachment 
what  the  General  had  said  about  them,  looked  to  their  forti- 
fication and  ammunition,  and  was  just  about  to  take  the 
perilous  trip  back  again  when  the  enemy  began  to  press  us  in 
a  very  determined  way.  There  was  heavy  timber  imme- 
diately in  front,  and  their  mode  of  attack  was  to  thicken  a 
skirmish  line  into  a  line  of  battle  behind  the  trees,  and  then 
try  to  rush  us  at  very  short  range.  The  infantry  ammuni- 
tion had  been  replenished  just  in  time,  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered there  was  not  an  infantry  soldier  to  our  right.  If  the 
woods  had  been  as  close  upon  us  in  that  direction  they  would 
undoubtedly  have  captured  the  piece,  but  they  did  not  relish 
coming  out  into  the  open. 

I  was  struck  with  the  splendid  fighting  spirit  of  Campbell, 
the  tall,  lean,  keen-eyed,  black-haired  gunner  of  the  piece; 
but  he  was  entirely  too  reckless,  standing  erect  except  when 
bending  over  the  handspike  in  sighting  the  piece,  and  not 
much  "sighting"  is  done  at  such  short  range.  Every  time 
the  gun  belched  its  deadly  contents  into  the  woods  Camp- 
bell would  throw  his  glengary  or  fez  cap  around  his  head 
and  yell  savagely.  I  cautioned  him  again  and  again',  re- 
minding him  that  the  other  men  of  the  detachment  were 
fighting,  and  fighting  effectively,  on  their  hands  and  knees. 
When  his  commanding  officer  or  I  ordered  him  to  "get 
down"  he  would  do  so  for  a  moment,  but  spring  up  again 
when  the  gun  fired.  Suddenly  I  heard  the  thud  of  a  minie 
striking  a  man,  and  Campbell's  arms  flew  up  as  he  fell  back- 
ward, ejaculating,  "Oh,  God!  I'm  done  forever!"  We  lift- 
ed the  poor  fellow  around,  across  the  face  of  the  little  work, 
under  the  mouth  of  the  piece,  and  Falligant  kneeled  by  him 
and  pressed  his  finger  where  the  blood  was  spouting,  while 
I  took  the  gunner's  place  at  the  trail.     Every  time  the  gun 


280  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

was  discharged  I  noticed  how  Campbell's  face — which  was 
almost  directly  under  the  bellowing  muzzle — was  contorted, 
but  he  urged  me  to  keep  up  the  fire,  until  finally,  observing  a 
sort  of  lull  in  the  fight,  I  proposed  to  cease  firing  and  note  the 
effect,  and  the  poor  fellow  said  brokenly,  "Well,  if  you  think 
it's  safe,  Adjutant!"  Then  he  added,  "Tell  my  mother  I  died 
like  a  soldier" — and  he  was  gone. 

During  this  flurry  one  of  the  enemy  bounded  over  the 
work  and  landed  right  in  among  us;  but  he  ran  on  toward 
the  rear  and  brought  up  in  a  sitting  posture  on  a  pile  of 
earth  one  of  the  infantry  had  thrown  out  of  a  hole  he  had 
dug  to  cook  in — a  sort  of  safety-kitchen.  The  man's  back 
was  turned  toward  us,  his  elbows  were  on  his  knees,  and  his 
head  sunk  in  his  hands.  After  Campbell's  death,  as  he  was 
still  sitting  there,  thinking  he  must  be  wounded,  I  proposed 
to  one  of  the  men  to  run  out  and  bring  him  back  into  the 
work.  We  tried  it,  but  he  cast  off  our  hands  and  we  had  to 
leave  him  to  his  fate.  In  a  few  moments  he  was  shot  in  the 
head  and  tumbled  in  upon  the  cook  in  the  kitchen — dead. 

The  2d  of  June,  1864,  was  the  heaviest,  the  hardest- work- 
ed and  the  most  straining  day  of  my  life.  Not  only  did  I 
have  my  ordinary  duties  of  a  day  of  battle  to  perform,  but  I 
had,  in  addition,  to  open  and  to  keep  open  roads  for  getting 
in  ammunition,  to  bridge  two  or  three  ravines,  to  visit  Fal- 
ligant's  gun  several  times  and  to  keep  it  supplied  with  am- 
munition, which  had  to  be  passed  along  the  infantry  line  by 
hand  for  quite  a  long  distance.  When  night  came  I  believe  I 
was  more  nearly  wornout  than  on  any  other  occasion  during 
the  entire  war.  Colonel  Cabell  insisted  I  should  go  back  to 
our  headquarters  camp,  which  was  about  midway  between  the 
lines  and  the  drivers'  camp,  and  sleep ;  and,  in  view  of  what 
impended  on  the  morrow,  I  consented  to  do  so.  But  first, 
and  just  before  dark,  I  took  Calloway  over  all  the  confus- 
ing and  obscure  part  of  the  road  to  Falligant's  gun  and  the 
road  by  which  he  was  to  bring  it  out  later.  I  omitted  to  say 
that  General  Kershaw  highly  approved  our  determination  to 
save  that  piece,  if  at  all  possible.  I  greatly  disliked  not  go- 
ing with  the  party  to  fetch  the  gun  out,  but  Calloway  and 
everyone  concerned  insisted  that  I  must  not  think  of  attempt- 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  28 1 

ing  it,  fearing  that  I  would  utterly  give  way  if  I  did  so.  So 
I  yielded,  and  after  showing  and  explaining  everything  to 
Calloway,  I  went  back  to  camp  and  laid  down. 

I  had  scarcely  gotten  to  sleep  when  I  had  to  get  up  to  pilot 
an  officer  who  had  important  orders  for  General  Kershaw, 
and  had  been  unable  to  find  his  headquarters.  Once  more  I 
stretched  out  and  dozed  off.  How  long  I  dozed  or  slept  I 
cannot  say,  but  I  was  awakened  by  Calloway  bending  over 
me  and  saying,  "Adjutant,  I  never  was  so  sorry  about  any- 
thing, but  in  those  woods  it  is  now  as  dark  as  Erebus !  No- 
body but  yourself  can  find  and  keep  the  road  you  showed  me, 
and  I  don't  believe  even  you  can  do  it." 

The  noble  fellow  was  evidently  much  mortified  and  trou- 
bled at  being  compelled  to  rouse  me,  but  he  well  knew  I  had 
much  rather  this  should  be  done  than  that  the  chance  of  sav- 
ing the  gun  should  be  abandoned.  So  I  got  up  and  mounted 
Mickey,  and  off  we  started. 

It  was  very  dark.  Just  before  reaching  the  point  where 
the  road  turned  to  the  right  along  the  slope  of  the  hill  we 
found  the  gun  horses  and  drivers,  Calloway  and  I  passing 
and  directing  them  to  follow  us,  and  to  keep  absolutely  quiet. 
I  experienced  little  difficulty  in  finding  the  road,  having 
superintended  the  cutting  of  it  and  being  very  familiar  with 
it,  and  we  passed  on  over  the  little  bridge,  and  were  just 
passing  out  from  behind  Wofford's  left  flank  and  heading 
for  Kershaw's  line,  when  someone  seized  my  bridle  rein  and 
abruptly  stopped  my  horse;  at  the  same  time  asking  who  I 
was  and  what  I  intended  to  do,  and  what  I  meant  by  bring- 
ing artillery  horses  through  his  lines  without  his  permission. 

The  manner  and  tone  of  this  address  was  irritating,  but 
suspecting  who  my  interlocutor  was  and  knowing  something 
of  his  temperament,  I  answered  quietly  that  I  was  adjutant  of 
Cabell's  Battalion  of  Artillery,  and  that  the  commanding  of- 
ficer of  one  of  our  batteries  was  with  me ;  that  the  gun  out 
there,  which  had  protected  this  part  of  the  line  all  day,  be- 
longed to  his  battery ;  that  we  proposed  to  save  it,  and  that 
we  had  brought  the  horses  for  the  purpose  of  hauling  it  off. 
I  could  see  nothing,  but  by  this  time  my  suspicion  had  be- 
come conviction  and  I  felt  sure  I  was  talking  with  General 


282  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Wofford.  He  positively  forbade  the  attempt,  and  did  not 
seem  disposed  to  yield  until  my  cousin,  Col.  Edward  Stiles, 
of  the  Sixteenth  Georgia,  of  his  brigade,  who  knew  the  Gen- 
eral well,  joined  us  and  suggested  as  a  compromise  that  we 
should  make  the  attempt  without  taking  the  horses  any  fur- 
ther; to  which  I  agreed,  upon  condition  that  he  would  fur- 
nish me  with,  say  twenty  men,  to  get  the  gun  off  by  hand, 
and  that  in  the  event  of  their  failing  I  should  then  make 
the  effort  with  the  horses,  as  we  had  General  Kershaw's 
positive  orders  to  save  the  gun  if  possible. 

We  got  the  men  and  started  up  the  hill,  leaving  drivers 
and  horses  to  await  our  return.  It  was  now  absolutely  dark. 
I  remember  putting  my  hand  before  my  face  and  being  un- 
able to  see  it.  Calloway  and  I  rode  side  by  side,  inclining 
to  the  left,  so  as  to  guard  against  running  out  into  the  enemy 
through  the  gap  in  the  lines.  There  was  absolute  silence, 
save  the  soft  tread  of  our  horses'  feet  in  the  sandy  soil.  In 
a  few  moments  their  heads  rustled  against  dry  leaves — the 
leafy  screen  which  the  troops  had  put  up  to  protect  them- 
selves from  the  baking  sun.  We  knew  we  were  at  the  in- 
fantry line  and  turned  to  the  right  and  toward  the  gun. 
There  was  a  good  deal  of  smoke  in  the  air  from  the  woods 
afire  out  in  front,  and  we  soon  became  conscious  of  an  in- 
sufferable odor  of  burning  flesh.  My  horse  being  a  rapid 
walker,  I  kept  a  little  ahead  of  Calloway,  and  very  soon  was 
stopped  again,  by  someone  who  spoke  almost  in  a  stage 
whisper.  It  turned  out  to  be  the  commanding  officer  of  Ker- 
shaw's old  brigade,  and  he,  too,  forbade  our  attempt  and  or- 
dered us  back;  but  the  direct  authority  of  his  major-general 
satisfied  him,  and  he  begged  only  that  we  should  wait  until 
his  men  could  be  thoroughly  roused  and  ready  to  resist  any 
attack  that  might  be  made;  adding  that  the  poor  fellows 
were  utterly  exhausted  by  the  unrelieved  strain  of  the  past 
thirty-six  hours.  All  true ;  yet  it  was  fearful  to  contemplate 
the  risk  they  ran  in  sleeping.  The  colonel  told  us,  too,  what 
we  already  suspected,  that  the  odor  which  so  offended  our 
nostrils  was  that  of  human  bodies  roasting  in  the  forest  fires 
in  front.  We  plainly  heard  the  officers  passing  along  the 
lines  and  rousing  the  men,  and  we  feared  the  enemy  heard  it, 


FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  COLD  HARBOR  183 

too ;  but  preferred  this  risk  to  that  of  a  sudden  rush  upon  a 
slumbering-  brigade  just  as  we  were  drawing  the  gun  off. 

Soon  after  we  started  again,  my  horse  snorted  and  sprang 
aside.  I  knew  this  meant  we  had  reached  the  dead  horses, 
and  told  Calloway  we  were  almost  upon  the  gun.  He  dis- 
mounted, handing  his  bridle  rein  to  me,  and  I  heard  him 
enter  the  little  trench  and  feel  and  fumble  his  way  along  it 
for  a  few  steps,  and  then  heard  him  call,  in  a  low  tone, 
"Falligant,  Falligant!"  Then  I  heard  the  sort  of  groan  or 
grumble  a  tired  man  gives  out  when  he  is  half  roused  from 
a  sound  sleep,  and  after  that  a  low  hum  of  conversation. 
Then  Calloway  came  up  out  of  the  trench,  and,  groping  his 
way  to  me,  said :  "Adjutant,  do  you  know  every  man  in 
that  detachment  was  fast  asleep  and  the  enemy  is  lying 
down  in  line  of  battle  between  here  and  that  low  fire  out 
there!"  I  said  he  must  be  mistaken,  that  I  could  toss  a 
cracker  into  that  fire.  He  insisted  he  was  right  and  urged 
me  to  dismount  and  go  into  the  trench  and  stoop  till  I  could 
see  under  the  smoke.  I  did  so,  and  there,  sure  enough,  was  a 
continuous  line  of  blue  which  the  flickering  of  the  flames 
beyond  enabled  me  to  see.  My  heart  stopped  beating  at  the 
sight,  but  this  was  no  time  for  indulgence  of  over-sensibility, 
physical  or  emotional. 

As  quietly  and  rapidly  as  possible  we  got  everything  ready 
for  fight  or  retreat.  Our  twenty  men  had  brought  their  mus- 
kets and  Kershaw's  brigade  was  up  in  the  trench  and  on  their 
knees.  The  gun  was  backed  out  of  the  little  work,  limbered 
up,  and  the  ammunition  chest  replaced ;  some  of  the  men 
took  hold  of  the  wheels  and  some  of  the  tongue,  and  the 
piece  was  soon  moving  after  us  almost  noiselessly,  along  the 
sassafras  field  toward  Wofford's  line.  In  a  few  moments 
we  reached  the  goal,  returning  our  thanks  to  the  General, 
and  to  my  cousin  and  the  sturdy,  gallant  men  they  lent  us ; 
the  horses  were  hitched  up  and  we  were  rolling  over  the  little 
bridges  and  up  to  the  new  line  and  the  position  selected  for 
this  now  distinguished  piece. 

I  trust  I  am  not  small  enough  to  indulge  in  any  vulgar 
pride  in  my  part  of  the  trying  experiences  of  this  day ;  yet  I 
scarce  recall  another  day  for  which  I  so  thank  God,  or  which 


284  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

has  had  a  greater  influence  on  my  life.  Often,  when  depressed 
and  disposed  to  question  whether  there  is,  or  ever  was,  in  me 
the  salt  of  a  real  manhood,  I  have  looked  back  to  the  first 
three  days  of  June,  1864,  and  felt  the  revival  of  a  saving 
self-respect  and  the  determination  not  to  do  or  suffer  any- 
thing unworthy  of  this  heroic  past  of  which  I  was  a  part. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64. 

The  Great  Fight  of  June  3d — Unparalleled  in  Brevity,  in  Slaughter,  and 
in  Disproportion  of  Loss — Grant  Assaults  in  Column,  or  in  Mass — 
His  Troops  Refuse  to  Renew  the  Attack — Effect  at  the  North — Con- 
federate "Works"  in  the  Campaign  of  '64 — The  Lines — Snapshoot- 
ing— The  Covered  Way — The  Spring — Death  of  Captain  McCarthy, 
of  the  Howitzers — How  It  Occurred  on  the  Lines — How  It  Was  Re- 
ceived in  the  City — My  Brother  Loses  an  Eye — "Alone  in  the 
World" — A  Last  Look  at  the  Enemy — Buildings  Felled  and  Scat- 
tered by  Artillery — Gun  Wheels  Cut  Down  by  Musketry — Bronze 
Guns  Splotched  and  Pitted  Like  Smallpox — Epitome  of  the  Cam- 
paign of  '64 — Maneuvering  of  No  Avail  Against  Lee's  Army — Did 
That  Army  Make  Lee,  or  Lee  That  Army  ? 

There  were  two  battles  at  Cold  Harbor,  one  in  '62  and 
one  in  '64.  In  '62  the  Confederates  attacked  and  drove  the 
Federals  from  their  position;  in  '64  the  Federals  attacked, 
but  were  repulsed  with  frightful  slaughter.  It  is  undis- 
puted that  both  McClellan's  army  and  Grant's  outnumbered 
Lee's, — Grant's  overwhelmingly, — and  it  is  asserted  that  the 
position  occupied  by  the  Federals  in  '62  and  the  Confederates 
in  '64  was  substantially  the  same. 

We  were  in  line  of  battle  at  Cold  Harbor  of  '64  from  the 
1st  to  the  1 2th  of  June — say  twelve  days;  the  battle  proper 
did  not  last  perhaps  that  many  minutes.  In  some  respects, 
at  least,  it  was  one  of  the  notable  battles  of  history — cer- 
tainly in  its  brevity  measured  in  time,  and  its  length  meas- 
ured in  slaughter — as  also  in  the  disproportion  of  the  losses. 
A  fair  epitome  of  it  in  these  respects  would  be  that  in  a  few 
moments  more  than  thirteen  thousand  men  were  killed  and 
wounded  on  the  Federal  side  and  less  than  thirteen  hundred 
on  the  Confederate.  As  to  the  time  consumed  in  the  conflict, 
the  longest  duration  assigned  is  sixty  minutes  and  the  short- 
est less  than  eight.  For  my  own  part,  I  could  scarcely  say 
whether  it  lasted  eight  or  sixty  minutes,  or  eight  or  sixty 


286  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

hours — to  such  a  degree  were  all  my  powers  concentrated 
upon  the  one  point  of  keeping  the  guns  fully  supplied  with 
ammunition. 

The  effect  of  the  fighting  was  not  at  all  appreciated  on 
the  Confederate  side  at  the  time.  Why  we  did  not  at  least 
suspect  it,  when  the  truce  was  asj^ed  and  granted  to  allow 
the  removal  of  the  Federal  dead  and  wounded,  I  cannot  say, 
although  I  went  myself  with  the  officers  on  our  side,  detailed 
to  accompany  them,  on  account  of  my  familiarity  with  the 
lines.  I  presume  the  ignorance,  and  even  incredulity,  of  our 
side  as  to  the  overwhelming  magnitude  of  the  Federal  losses 
resulted  from  two  causes  mainly — our  own  loss  was  so 
trivial,  so  utterly  out  of  proportion,  and  the  one  character- 
istic feature  of  the  fight  on  the  Federal  side  was  not  then 
generally  known  or  appreciated  by  us,  namely,  that  Grant 
had  attacked  in  column,  in  phalanx,  or  in  mass.  The  record 
of  the  Official  Diary  of  our  corps  (Southern  Historical  So- 
ciety Papers,  Vol.  VII.,  p.  503),  under  date  of  June  3,  1864, 
is  very  peculiar  and  is  in  part  in  these  words :  "Meantime 
the  enemy  is  heavily  massed  in  front  of  Kershaw's  salient. 
Anderson's,  Law's,  and  Gregg's  brigades  are  there  to  sup- 
port Kershaw.  Assault  after  assault  is  made,  and  each  time 
repulsed  with  severe  loss  to  the  enemy.  At  eight  o'clock 
A.  M.,  fourteen  had  been  made  and  repulsed  (this  means,  I 
suppose,  fourteen  lines  advanced)." 

This  is  obviously  a  hurried  field  note  by  one  officer,  cor- 
rected later  by  another,  in  accordance  with  the  facts  known 
to  the  writer,  that  is,  to  the  officer  who  made  the  later  note, 
but  not  generally  known  at  the  time  to  the  public.  We  sup- 
pose, however,  it  will  to-day  be  admitted  by  all  that  there 
was  but  one  attack  upon  Kershaw  up  to  eight  A.  M.,  and 
that  at  that  hour  the  order  was  issued  to  the  Federal  troops 
to  renew  the  attack,  but  they  failed  to  advance;  that  this 
order  was  repeated  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  troops  again 
refused  to  obey,  and  that  at  least  some  of  Grant's  corps 
generals  approved  of  this  refusal  of  their  men  to  repeat  the 
useless  sacrifice. 

Here,  then,  is  the  secret  of  the  otherwise  inexplicable  and 
incredible  butchery.    A  little  after  daylight  on  June  3,  1864, 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64.  287 

along  the  lines  of  Kershaw's  salient,  his  infantry  discharged 
their  bullets  and  his  artillery  fired  case-shot  and  double- 
shotted  canister,  at  very  short  range,  into  a  mass  of  men 
twenty-eight  (28)  deep,  who  could  neither  advance  nor  re- 
treat, and  the  most  of  whom  could  not  even  discharge  their 
muskets  at  us.  We  do  not  suppose  that  the  general  outline 
of  these  facts  will  be  denied  to-day,  but  it  may  be  as  well  to 
confirm  the  essential  statement  by  a  brief  extract  from  Swin- 
ton's  "Army  of  the  Potomac,"  p.  487 : 

The  order  was  issued  through  these  officers  to  their  subordinate  com- 
manders, and  from  them  descended  through  the  wonted  channels,  but 
no  man  stirred  and  the  immobile  lines  pronounced  a  verdict,  silent,  yet 
emphatic,  against  further  slaughter.  The  loss  on  the  Union  side  in  this 
sanguinary  action  was  over  thirteen  thousand,  while  on  the  part  of  the 
Confederates  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  reached  that  many  hundreds. 

To  like  effect,  as  to  the  amount  and  the  disproportion  of 
the  carnage,  is  the  statement  of  Colonel  Taylor,  on  page  135 
of  his  book,  that : 

I  well  recall  having  received  a  report  after  the  assault  from  General 
Hoke — whose  division  reached  the  army  just  previous  to  this  battle — to 
the  effect  that  the  ground  in  his  entire  front  over  which  the  enemy  had 
charged  was  literally  covered  with  their  dead  and  wounded ;  and  that 
up  to  that  time  he  had  not  had  a  single  man  killed. 

So  much  for  the  amount,  the  disproportion,  and  the  cause 
of  the  slaughter.  A  word  now  as  to  the  effect  of  it  upon 
others  than  the  immediate  contestants.  Is  it  too  much  to 
say  that  even  Grant's  iron  nerve  was  for  the  time  shattered  ? 
Not  that  he  would  not  have  fought  again  if  his  men  would, 
but  they  would  not.  Is  it  not  true  that  he  so  informed  Presi- 
dent Lincoln;  that  he  asked  for  another  army;  that,  not  get- 
ting it,  or  not  getting  it  at  once,  he  changed  his  plan  of  cam- 
paign from  a  fighting  to  a  digging  one  ?  Is  it  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  when  he  attacked  at  the  Bloody  Angle  or  at 
Cold  Harbor,  he  really  contemplated  the  siege  of  Petersburg 
and  regarded  those  operations  as  merely  preparatory?  Is 
it  not  true  that,  years  later,  Grant  said — looking  back  over 


288  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

his  long  career  of  bloody  fights — that  Cold  Harbor  was  the 
only  battle  he  ever  fought  that  he  would  not  fight  over  again 
under  the  same  circumstances  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  when  first 
urged,  as  President,  to  remove  a  certain  Democratic  office- 
holder in  California,  and  later,  when  urged  to  give  a  reason 
for  his  refusal,  he  replied  that  the  man  had  been  a  standard- 
bearer  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  that  he  would — 
allow  something  very  unpleasant  to  happen  to  him — before 
he  would  remove  the  only  man  in  his  army  who  even  at- 
tempted to  obey  his  order  to  attack  a  second  time  at  Cold 
Harbor?  Is  it  not  true  that  General  Meade  said  the  Con- 
federacy came  nearer  to  winning  recognition  at  Cold  Harbor 
than  at  any  other  period  during  the  war?  Is  it  not  true 
that,  after  Grant's  telegram,  the  Federal  Cabinet  resolved  at 
least  upon  an  armistice,  and  that  Mr.  Seward  was  selected  to 
draft  the  necessary  papers,  and  Mr.  Swinton  to  prepare  the 
public  mind  for  the  change?  And  finally,  even  if  none  of 
these  things  be  true,  exactly  as  propounded — yet  is  it  not 
true,  that  Cold  Harbor  shocked  and  depressed  the  Federal 
Government  and  the  Northern  public  more  than  any  other 
single  battle  of  the  war  ? 

A  few  words  as  to  some  of  the  prominent  features,  phy- 
sical and  otherwise,  of  fighting  in  "the  lines,"  as  we  began 
regularly  to  do  in  this  campaign  of  '64,  particularly  at  Cold 
Harbor.  Something  of  this  is  necessary  to  a  proper  under- 
standing and  appreciation  of  some  of  the  incidents  that  oc- 
curred there.  And  first,  as  to  "the  works"  of  which  I  have 
so  often  spoken.  What  were  they  ?  I  cannot  answer  in  any 
other  way  one-half  so  well  as  by  the  following  vivid  quota- 
tion from  my  friend  Willy  Dame's  "Reminiscences,"  already 
mentioned  and  quoted.    Says  Mr.  Dame : 

Just  here  I  take  occasion  to  correct  a  very  wrong  impression  about  the 
field  works  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  fought  behind  in  this  cam- 
paign. All  the  Federal  writers  who  have  written  about  these  battles 
speak  about  our  works  as  "formidable  earthworks,"  "powerful  fortifi- 
cations," "impregnable  lines;"  such  works  as  no  troops  could  be  expected 
to  take  and  any  troops  should  be  expected  to  hold. 

Now  about  the  parts  of  the  line  distant  from  us,  I  couldn't  speak  so 
certainly — though  I  am  sure  they  were  all  very  much  the  same — but 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64  289 

about  the  works  all  along  our  part  of  the  line  I  can  speak  with  exactness 
and  certainty.  I  saw  them,  I  helped  with  my  own  hands  to  make  them, 
I  fought  behind  them,  I  was  often  on  top  of  them  and  both  sides  of  them. 
I  know  all  about  them.  I  got  a  good  deal  of  the  mud  off  them  on  me 
(not  for  purppses  of  personal  fortification,  however).  Our  works  were 
a  single  line  of  earth  about  four  feet  high  and  three  to  five  feet  thick.  It 
had  no  ditch  or  obstruction  in  front.  It  was  nothing  more  than  a  little 
heavier  line  of  "rifle  pits."  There  was  no  physical  difficulty  in  men 
walking  right  over  that  bank.  I  did  it  often  myself,  saw  many  others  do 
it,  and  twice  saw  a  line  of  Federal  troops  walk  over  it,  and  then  saw 
them  walk  back  over  it  with  the  greatest  ease,  at  the  rate  of  forty  miles 
an  hour;  i.  e.  except  those  whom  we  had  persuaded  to  stay  with  us,  and 
those  the  angels  were  carrying  to  Abraham's  bosom  at  a  still  swifter  ratt. 
Works  they  could  go  over  like  that  couldn't  have  been  much  obstacle ! 
They  couldn't  have  made  better  time  on  a  dead  level. 

Such  were  our  works  actually,  and  still  they  seemed  to  "loom  large" 
to  the  people  in  front.  I  wonder  what  could  have  given  them  such  an 
exaggerated  idea  of  the  strength  of  those  modest  little  works !  I  wonder 
if  it  could  have  been  the  men  behind  them !  There  wasn't  a  great  many 
of  these  men !  It  was  a  very  thin  gray  line  along  them,  back  of  a  thin 
red  line  of  clay.  But  these  lines  stuck  together,  very  hard,  and  were 
very  hard  indeed  to  separate.  The  red  clay  was  "sticky"  and  the  men 
were  just  as  "sticky,"  and  as  the  two  lines  "stuck"  together  so  closely,  it 
made  the  whole  very  strong  indeed.  Certainly  it  seems  they  gave  to 
those  who  tried  to  force  them  apart  an  impression  of  great  strength. 

Yes,  it  must  have  been  the  men!  A  story  in  point  comes  to  my  aid  here. 
A  handsome,  well  dressed  lady  sweeps  with  a  great  air  past  two  street 
boys.  They  are  much  struck.  "My  eye,  Jim,  but  ain't  that  a  stunning 
dress?"  says  Jim  with  a  superior  air.  "O  get  out,  Bill,  the  dress  ain't 
no  great  shakes;  it's  the  woman  in  it  that  makes  it  so  killing!"  That  was 
the  way  with  the  Spottsylvania  earthworks.  The  "works  wa'n't  no  great 
shakes."    It  was  the  men  in  'em  that  made  them  so  "killing." 

The  men  behind  those  works,  such  as  they  were,  had  perfect  confidence 
in  their  own  ability  to  hold  them.  And  this  happy  combination  of  "faith" 
and  "works"  proved  as  strong  against  the  world  and  the  flesh  as  it  does 
against  the  devil.    It  was  perfectly  effectual,  it  withstood  all  assaults. 

The  original  intent  of  such  "works"  is  to  afford  protec- 
tion against  regular  attack  by  the  full  line  of  battle  of  the 
opposite  side,  advancing  out  of  their  works  to  attack  yours. 
This,  of  course,  everyone  understands.  But  this  is  only  an 
occasional  and  comparatively  rare  thing.  The  constant  and 
wearing  feature  of  "the  lines"  is  the  sharpshooting,  which 


29O  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

never  ceases  as  long  as  there  is  light  enough  to  see  how  to 
shoot;  unless  the  skirmishers  or  sharpshooters  of  the  two 
sides  proclaim,  or  in  some  way  begin,  a  temporary  truce,  as  I 
have  known  them  to  do.  I  have  also  known  them  to  give  ex- 
plicit warning  of  the  expiration  of  such  a  truce. 

Sharpshooting,  at  best,  however,  is  a  fearful  thing.  The 
regular  sharpshooter  often  seemed  to  me  little  better  than  a 
human  tiger  lying  in  wait  for  blood.  His  rifle  is  frequently 
trained  and  made  fast  bearing  upon  a  particular  spot, — ■ 
for  example,  where  the  head  of  a  gunner  must  of  necessity 
appear  when  sighting  his  piece, — and  the  instant  that  object 
appears  and,  as  it  were,  "darkens  the  hole,"  crash  goes  a 
bullet  through  his  brain. 

The  consequence  of  the  sharpshooting  is  the  "covered- 
way,"  which,  when  applied  to  these  rough  and  ready  tempo- 
rary lines,  means  any  sort  of  protection — trenches,  ditches, 
traverses,  piles  of  earth,  here  and  there,  at  what  have  proved 
to  be  the  danger  points,  designed  and  placed  so  as  to  protect 
as  far  as  possible  against  the  sharpshooters.  Only  in  regular 
and  elaborate  lines  of  "siege,"  such  as  we  had  later  about 
Petersburg,  is  seen  the  more  perfect  protection  of  regularly 
covered  galleries  and  ways  for  passing  from  one  part  of  the 
line  to  another  inside ;  just  as,  outside  and  on  the  face  toward 
the  enemy,  such  elaborate  and  permanent  lines  of  works  are 
protected  by  ditches,  abattis  or  felled  trees,  friezes  or  sharp- 
ened stakes,  to  make  the  "works"  more  difficult  of  approach, 
of  access,  and  of  capture. 

One  can  readily  understand,  now,  the  supreme  discomfort 
and  even  suffering  of  "the  lines."  Thousands  of  men 
cramped  up  in  a  narrow  trench,  unable  to  go  out,  or  to  get 
up,  or  to  stretch  or  to  stand  without  danger  to  life  and  limb ; 
unable  to  lie  down,  or  to  sleep,  for  lack  of  room  and  pressure 
of  peril;  night  alarms,  day  attacks,  hunger,  thirst,  supreme 
weariness,  squalor,  vermin,  filth,  disgusting  odors  every- 
where; the  weary  night  succeeded  by  the  yet  more  weary 
day ;  the  first  glance  over  the  way,  at  day  dawn,  bringing  the 
sharpshooter's  bullet  singing  past  your  ear  or  smashing 
through  your  skull,  a  man's  life  often  exacted  as  the  price  of 
a  cup  of  water  from  the  spring.     But  I  will  not  specify  or 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64  29I 

elaborate  further;  only,  upon  the  canvas  thus  stretched,  let 
me  paint  for  you  two  or  three  life  and  death  pictures  of  Cold 
Harbor  of  '64. 

The  reader  may  recall  our  "Old  Doctor,"  the  chief  of  our 
ambulance  corps,  who  helped  to  rally  the  Texans  and  Geor- 
gians on  the  10th  of  May  at  Spottsylvania,  first  exhorting 
them  as  "gentlemen,"  then  berating  and  belaboring  them  as 
"cowards."  No  man  who  was  ever  in  the  Howitzers  but  will 
appreciate  the  grim  absurdity  of  this  man's  feeling  a  lack  of 
confidence  in  his  own  nerve  and  courage;  but  he  did  feel  it. 
When  the  war  broke  out  he  was  in  Europe  enjoying  him- 
self, but  returned  to  his  native  State,  serving  first  in  some, 
as  he  considered  it,  "non-combatant"  position,  until  that  be- 
came unendurable  to  him,  and  then  he  joined  the  Howitzers 
as  a  private  soldier;  and  that  final  flurry  of  the  10th  of  May 
was  the  first  real  fight  he  ever  got  into.  Hearing  someone 
say  just  as  it  was  over  that  it  had  been  "pretty  hot  work,"  he 
asked  with  the  greatest  earnestness  whether  the  speaker 
really  meant  what  he  said,  and  when  assured  that  he  did,  he 
asked  two  or  three  others  of  his  comrades,  whom  he  regarded 
as  experienced  soldiers,  whether  they  concurred  in  this  view 
of  the  matter,  and  on  their'  expressing  emphatic  concur- 
rence, he  expressed  intense  satisfaction  at  having  at  last  a 
standard  in  his  mind,  and  a  relieving  standard  at  that;  say- 
ing that  he  had  feared  he  would  disgrace  his  family  by  ex- 
hibiting a  lack  of  courage;  but  if  this  was  really  "hot  work," 
he  felt  that  he  would  be  able  to  maintain  himself  and  do  his 
duty.  The  story  is  almost  too  much  for  belief,  but  it  is  the 
sober  truth  and  vouched  for  by  gentlemen  of  the  highest 
character. 

I  think  it  was  the  evening  after  the  big  fight  at  Cold  Har- 
bor that  I  was  sitting  in  the  works,  with  one  of  the  Howitzer 
detachments,  when  the  Doctor  announced  his  intention  of 
going  to  the  spring  for  water.  I  reminded  him  that  it  was 
not  quite  dark  and  the  sharpshooters  would  be  apt  to  pay 
their  respects  to  him ;  but  he  said  he  must  have  some  water, 
and  offered  to  take  down  and  fill  as  many  canteens  as  he 
could  carry.  His  captain  was  present  and  I  said  no  more. 
He  was  soon  loaded  up  and  started  off,  stepping  right  up  out 


292  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

of  the  trench  on  the  level  ground.  I  could  not  help  urging 
him  to  take  the  "covered  way,"  but  he  replied,  "I  can't  do 
it,  Adjutant.    It  is  dirty;  a  gentleman  can't  walk  in  it,  sir." 

Away  he  went,  walking  bolt  upright  and  with  entire  non- 
chalance, down  the  hill;  to  my  great  relief  reaching  the 
spring  in  safety,  where  he  was  pretty  well  protected.  In  due 
time  he  started  back,  loaded  with  the  full  canteens  and  hav- 
ing a  tin  cup  full  of  water  in  his  right  hand.  I  heard  the  sharp 
report  of  a  rifle  and  saw  the  Doctor  start  forward  or  stumble, 
and  sprang  up  to  go  to  his  relief,  but  he  steadied  himself  and 
came  right  on  up  the  hill  without  further  attention  from  the 
sharpshooters,  and  stepped  down  into  the  work.  As  he  did 
so  he  handed  the  captain  the  cup  of  water,  in  the  quietest 
manner  apologizing  for  having  spilled  part  of  it,  adding  that 
he  had  met  with  a  trivial  accident.  The  upper  joint  of  his 
thumb  had  been  shot  away,  yet  he  had  not  dropped  the  cup. 
Then  he  turned  to  me  and  asked  my  pardon  for  his  dis- 
regard of  my  warning  and  his  imprudence  in  getting  shot, 
protesting  still,  however,  that  it  was  very  hard  indeed  for  a 
gentleman  to  walk  in  those  filthy,  abominable  covered  ways. 

The  spring  was  perhaps  the  point  of  greatest  power  and 
pathos  in  all  the  weird  drama  of  "The  Lines."  About  this 
date,  or  very  soon  after,  a  few  of  us  were  sitting  in  the  part 
of  the  trenches  occupied  by  the  Twenty-first  Mississippi,  of 
our  old  brigade, — Barksdale's,  now  Humphreys', — which 
was  supporting  our  guns.  There  had  been  a  number  of  Yale 
men  in  the  Twenty-first — the  Sims,  Smiths,  Brandon,  Scott, 
and  perhaps  others.  A  good  many  were  "gone,"  and  those 
of  us  who  were  left  were  talking  of  them  and  of  good  times 
at  Old  Yale,  when  someone  said,  "Scott,  isn't  it  your  turn  to 
go  to  the  spring?"  "Yes,"  said  Scott,  submissively,  "I  be- 
lieve it  is.  Pass  up  your  canteens,"  and  he  loaded  up  and 
started  out.  There  was  a  particularly  exposed  spot  on  the 
way  to  water,  which  we  had  tried  in  vain  to  protect  more 
perfectly,  and  we  heard,  as  usual,  two  or  three  rifle  shots 
as  Scott  passed  that  point.  In  due  time  we  heard  them 
again  as  he  returned,  and  one  of  the  fellows  said,  "Ha! 
they  are  waking  up  old  Scott,  again,  on  the  home  stretch-." 

The  smile  had  not  died  upon  our  faces  when  a  head  ap- 
peared above  the  traverse  and  a  business-like  voice  called : 


COLD    HARBOR    OF     64  293 

"Hello,  Company  I ;  man  of  yours  dead  out  here !"  We  ran 
around  the  angle  of  the  work,  and  there  lay  poor  Scott, 
prone  in  the  ditch  and  almost  covered  with  canteens.  We 
picked  him  up  and  bore  him  tenderly  into  the  trench,  and,  as 
we  laid  him  down  and  composed  his  limbs,  manly  tears 
dropped  upon  his  still  face.  Each  man  disengaged  and  took 
his  own  canteen  from  the  slumbering  water-carrier.  We 
did  not  "pour  the  water  out  to  the  Lord,"  as  David  did  when 
the  "three  mightiest  brake  through  the  host  of  the  Philistines 
and  drew  water  out  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem  that  was  by  the 
gate" — albeit,  in  a  truer  sense  than  David  spoke,  this  water 
was  the  very  "blood  of  this  man." 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  one  of  the  days 
that  followed  close  upon  the  great  fight  that  there  befell  the 
company  the  very  saddest  loss  it  had  yet  experienced.  An 
order  had  come  to  Captain  McCarthy,  from  General  Alex- 
ander, commanding  the  artillery  corps,  directing  that  the 
effect  of  the  fire  of  several  Howitzers,  which  were  operating 
as  mortars,  from  a  position  immediately  back  of  the  Howit- 
zer guns,  should  be  carefully  observed  and  reported  to  him. 
The  captain,  appreciating  at  once  the  responsibility  and  the 
peril  of  the  work,  with  characteristic  chivalry,  determined  to 
divide  it  between  himself  and  one  of  the  most  competent  and 
careful  men  in  the  company.  He  was  not  the  man  to  shrink, 
or  slur  over,  or  postpone  his  own  part  in  any  duty,  and  im- 
mediately stationed  himself  where  he  could  thoroughly  dis- 
charge it.  He  had  taken  his  stand  but  a  few  moments  when 
he  fell  back  among  his  men,  his  brain  pierced  by  a  sharp- 
shooter's bullet.  The  detachment  sprang  to  his  aid,  but  too 
late  even  to  prevent  his  fall.  His  broad  breast  heaved  once 
or  twice  as  they  knelt  about  him,  and  it  was  all  over.  The 
men  broke  down  utterly  and  sobbed  like  children. 

We  never  found  his  hat.  While  his  boys  were  still  gaz- 
ing at  him  through  their  tears  a  Mississippi  soldier  came 
working  his  way  along  the  lines,  from  a  point  some  one 
hundred  feet  or  more  to  the  right,  holding  in  his  hand  a  little 
piece  of  brass,  and  as  he  approached  the  group  said :  "This 
here  thing  has  just  fell  at  my  feet.  I  reckon  it  belongs  to 
some  of  you  artillery  fellows;"  and  then,   looking  at  the 


294  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

noble  figure  stretched  upon  the  ground,  he  asked  in  the  dry, 
matter-of-fact  soldier  style,  "Who's  that's  dead?"  When 
we  told  him  Captain  McCarthy,  of  the  Howitzers,  he  said 
musingly:  "McCarthy,  McCarthy;  why,  that's  the  name 
of  the  folks  that  took  care  o'  me,  when  I  was  wounded  so 
bad  last  year.  Well,  here's  the  cannons  from  his  hat."  And 
so  it  was ;  his  hat,  as  we  suppose,  had  gone  over  the  works, 
and  his  badge  of  cross  cannon,  dislodged  from  it  by  the 
shock,  had  fallen  at  the  feet  of  a  man  who  had  been  nursed 
back  to  life  by  his  mother  and  sisters  in  his  boyhood's  home. 

In  a  few  moments  his  men  bore  him  to  where  he  could  be 
placed  in  an  ambulance,  and  then  all,  save  his  cousin,  Dan, 
afterwards  Lieutenant  McCarthy,  who  went  into  Richmond 
with  his  body,  turned  back  to  the  lines  with  such  choking  of 
grief  and  heaviness  of  heart  as  they  had  never  before  felt. 

It  is  seldom  a  man  is  so  beloved  or  so  deserves  to  be.  I 
can  truly  say  I  never  heard  him  utter  an  evil  word  con- 
cerning anyone,  and  never  heard  from  anyone  either  adverse 
criticism  or  complaint  of  him.  A  day  or  two  before,  on  that 
very  spot,  he  had  shown  what  a  true  hero  he  was.  Just 
after  the  great  repulse,  and  while  a  fearful  fire  was  pouring 
upon  us  from  the  Federal  batteries  and  such  of  their  as- 
saulting infantry  as  had  succeeded  in  reaching  their  own 
works,  a  poor  wretch,  who  had  fallen  just  outside  our 
works,  was  shrieking  for  help.  The  captain,  deeply  stirred, 
cried :  "Boys,  I  can't  stand  this.  I  don't  order  any  of  you 
to  accompany  me;  but,  as  I  can't  well  manage  him  alone,  I 
call  for  one  volunteer  to  go  with  me  and  bring  in  that  poor 
fellow."  Several  volunteered,  but  Sergeant,  afterwards 
Lieutenant,  Moncure  said,  "You  can't  go,  boys;  I  am  chief 
of  this  piece,"  and  he  and  the  captain  went  right  over  the 
works,  and,  picking  up  the  man,  brought  him  back  inside, 
but  he  was  dead  before  they  laid  him  down.  He  had  been 
killed  by  the  fire  of  his  own  friends. 

Such  was  death  upon  the  lines ;  but  let  me  show  what  all 
this  meant  to  the  people  at  home.  General  Kershaw  very 
willingly  furnished  Dan  an  ambulance  and  a  man  from  his 
old  brigade  to  drive  it,  and  the  two  started  on  their  melan- 
choly journey.  Counting  the  necessary  turn-outs  in  the  road, 


COLD    HARBOR   OF    '64  29$ 

which  was  badly  cut  up  by  army  wagons,  they  had  some 
twelve  or  thirteen  miles  to  travel,  and  it  must  have  been 
after  seven  o'clock  before  they  started.  Meanwhile,  at  the 
captain's  father's  home,  in  the  northern  part  of  the  city, 
were  his  mother  and  sisters,  his  father,  an  aged  man,  suffer- 
ing from  a  disease  which  had  robbed  him  of  the  power  of 
speech  and  forced  him  to  breathe  through  a  tube,  and  a 
younger  brother,  under  military  age,  who  was  his  father's 
constant  attendant  and  nurse,  and  who  slept  with  him  at 
night.  This  brother  was  roused  that  night  from  his  first  nap 
by  loud  shouts  on  the  street  and  a  rough,  startling,  disa- 
greeable noise  made,  as  he  thought,  by  running  a  stout  stick 
backwards  and  forwards  across  the  wooden  palings  of  the 
front  fence.  Going  to  the  window  the  lad  hesitated  for  a 
moment  to  throw  up  the  sash,  the  streets  of  a  beleaguered 
city  at  night  being,  of  course,  not  entirely  free  from  prowlers 
and  disorder.  What  he  saw  was  a  man  holding  a  horse, 
from  which  he  had  evidently  just  dismounted,  and  who  had 
been  making  these  noises  for  the  purpose  of  rousing  the 
people  in  the  house.  As  the  sash  went  up  the  man  said : 
"Captain  McCarthy  was  killed  on  the  lines  awhile  ago.  If 
you  want  his  body  you  had  better  send  for  it  to-night,  or 
it  may  be  buried  on  the  field."  As  he  said  this  he  remounted 
and  was  gone. 

The  house  was  instantly  in  a  turmoil,  but  the  inmates  soon 
recovered  reasonable  balance,  and  in  a  short  time  the  lad  was 
off  after  a  horse  and  wagon  for  the  sad  errand.  At  first  he 
could  not  think  where  he  might  get  one,  but  it  soon  occurred 
to  him  that  he  had  seen  upon  the  streets  within  a  few  days 
a  new  wagon  of  "John  and  George  Gibson,  Builders,"  and 
he  went  to  Mr.  George  Gibson's  house  and  waked  him.  Upon 
hearing  the  sad  news,  Mr.  Gibson  kindly  consented  not  only 
to  let  him  have  the  wagon,  but  to  go  with  him  to  the  lines. 
He  added,  however,  that  the  horse  and  vehicle  were  kept  at 
a  considerable  distance  from  his  house  and  that,  as  the 
night  threatened  to  be  stormy,  young  McCarthy  had  better 
go  home  and  get  some  proper  wraps  and  protections  and 
meet  him  at  an  appointed  place  and  time.  As  the  boy  reach- 
ed home,  or  soon  after,  an  ambulance  drove  up  to  the  door 


296  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

and  his  Cousin  Dan  and  the  South  Carolina  soldier  bore 
the  captain's  body  into  the  house.  As  soon  as  they  had  de- 
posited it  and  helped  the  family  to  arrange  it  as  they  desired, 
Dan  kissed  his  uncle,  aunt,  and  cousins,  and  was  bidding 
them  good-by,  when  the  old  gentleman  made  signs  for  him 
to  remain  a  moment  and  asked  for  pencil  and  paper.  When 
these  were  given  him  he  wrote  just  these  words  and  handed 
them  to  Dan — "Since  it  was  God's  will  to  take  him,  I  am 
glad  he  died  at  his  post." 

Dan  was  back  at  his  post  by  daylight,  and  sent  word  to 
the  captain's  two  brothers,  who  were  in  another  corps,  when 
he  would  be  buried.  These  young  men  walked  into  town, 
attended  the  funeral,  and  walked  out  again  to  their  posts  the 
same  night,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the  lad  who  had  been 
his  father's  nurse  was  regularly  mustered  into  the  company 
to  which  his  elder  brothers  belonged.  Such  was  death,  and 
also  life,  in  the  devoted  city  back  of  the  lines. 

My  younger  brother  was  a  great  favorite  in  the  company. 
As  before  stated,  he  had  been  a  sailor,  and  as  we  had  come 
from  New  England  to  Virginia,  he  was  nicknamed  "Skip- 
per." He  had  a  beautiful  tenor  voice  and  a  unique  repertoire 
of  songs  from  almost  every  clime  and  country.  Whenever 
"Skipper"  deigned  to  sing,  "the  Professor,"  the  trainer  of 
the  Glee  Club,  would  enforce  absolute  silence  throughout  the 
camp,  under  penalty  of  a  heavy  battery  of  maledictions. 

The  day  after  Captain  McCarthy's  death,  my  brother,  be- 
ing in  almost  the  exact  position  the  captain  occupied  when 
killed,  was  shot  in  the  left  temple,  and  fell  just  where  the 
captain  had  fallen.  I  was  not  present  at  the  moment,  but 
the  boys  reported  that  as  they  bent  over  him,  thinking  him 
dead,  he  raised  his  head  and  said,  "If  you  fellows  will  stand 
back  and  give  me  some  air,  I'll  get  up !" — which  he  not  only 
did,  but  walked  out  to  the  hospital  camp,  refusing  a  litter.  He 
also  refused  to  take  chloroform,  and  directed  the  surgeons  in 
exploring  the  track  of  the  ball,  which  had  crushed  up  his 
temple  and  the  under  half  of  the  socket  of  his  eye,  and  lodged 
somewhere  in  behind  his  nose.  After  they  had  extracted  the 
ball  and  a  great  deal  of  crushed  bone,  he  declared  there  was 
something  else  in  his  head  which  must  come  out.    The  sur- 


COLD    HARBOR   OF    '64  297 

geons  told  him  it  was  more  crushed  bone  which  would  come 
away  of  itself  after  awhile ;  but  he  insisted  it  was  something 
that  did  not  belong  there,  and  that  they  must  take  it  away 
immediately.  They  remonstrated,  but  he  would  not  be  satis- 
fied, and  finally  they  probed  further  and  drew  out  a  piece  of 
his  hat  brim,  cut  just  the  width  of  the  ball  and  jammed  like 
a  wad  into  his  head;  after  that  he  was  much  easier.  I 
omitted  to  say  we  never  found  his  hat,  either. 

He  was  blind  in  the  left  eye  from  the  moment  the  ball 
struck  him,  and  became  for  a  time  blind  in  the  other  eye  also. 
While  in  utter  darkness  he  sang  most  of  the  time,  and  I  re- 
member our  dear  mother  was  troubled  by  a  fancy  that,  like 
a  mocking  bird  she  once  had  that  went  blind  in  a  railroad 
train,  he  might  sing  himself  to  death.  But  he  recovered  the 
sight  of  his  right  eye  after  a  time,  and  the  marvel  is  that  the 
left  eye  did  not  shrink  away  and  was  not  even  discolored. 
The  bony  formation  of  the  under-socket  of  the  eye  grew  up 
and  rectified  itself  almost  entirely,  and  a  lock  of  his  curly 
hair  covered  the  desperate-looking  wound  in  the  temple.  It 
was  a  wonderful  recovery. 

There  was  a  gunner  in  Calloway's  battery  named  Allen 
Moore,  a  backwoods  Georgian  and  a  simple-hearted  fellow, 
but  a  noble,  enthusiastic  man  and  soldier.  The  only  other 
living  member  of  Moore's  family  was  with  him,  a  lad  of  not 
more  than  twelve  or  thirteen  years ;  and  the  devotion  of  the 
elder  brother  to  the  younger  was  tender  as  a  mother's.  The 
little  fellow  was  a  strange,  sad,  prematurely  old  child,  who 
seldom  talked  and  never  smiled.  He  used  to  wear  a  red 
zouave  fez  that  ill-befitted  the  peculiar,  sallow,  pallid  com- 
plexion of  the  piney-woods  Georgian;  but  he  was  a  perfect 
hero  in  a  fight.  After  the  great  repulse  it  looked  for  a  time 
as  if  Grant  had  some  idea  of  digging  up  to  or  mining  our 
position.  We  had  all  day  been  shelling  a  suspicious-look- 
ing working  party  of  the  enemy,  and  about  sunset  I  was 
visiting  the  batteries  to  see  that  the  guns  were  properly  ar- 
ranged for  night  firing.  As  I  approached  Calloway's  posi- 
tion the  sharpshooting  had  almost  ceased,  and  down  the  line 
I  could  see  the  figures  of  the  cannoneers  standing  out  boldly 
against  the  sky.     Moore  was  at  the  trail  adjusting  his  piece 


298  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

for  the  night's  work.  His  gunnery  had  been  superb  during 
the  evening  and  his  blood  was  up. 

I  descended  into  a  little  valley  and  lost  sight  of  the  group, 
but  heard  Calloway's  stern  voice :  "Sit  down,  Moore !  Your 
gun  is  well  enough ;  the  sharpshooting  is  not  over  yet.  Get 
down!"  I  rose  the  hill.  "One  moment,  Captain !  My  trail's 
a  hair's  breadth  too  much  to  the  right,"  and  the  gunner  bent 
eagerly  over  the  hand-spike.  A  sharp  report  and  that  unmis- 
takable crash  of  a  bullet  against  a  man's  head.  It  was  the 
last  rifle  shot  on  the  lines  that  night. 

The  rushing  together  of  the  detachment  obstructed  my 
view ;  but  as  I  came  up  the  sergeant  stepped  aside  and  said, 
"See  there,  Adjutant!"  Moore  had  fallen  on  the  trail,  the 
blood  flowing  from  his  wound  all  over  his  face.  His  little 
brother  was  at  his  side  instantly.  No  wildness,  no  tumult  of 
grief.  He  knelt  on  the  earth,  and,  lifting  Allen's  head  on 
his  knees,  wiped  the  blood  from  his  forehead  with  the  cuff  of 
his  own  tattered  shirt-sleeve  and  kissed  the  pale  face  again 
and  again,  but  very  quietly.  Moore  was  evidently  dead,  and 
none  of  us  cared  to  disturb  the  child. 

Presently  he  rose, — quiet  still,  tearless  still, — gazed  down 
at  his  dead  brother,  then  around  at  us,  and  breathing  the 
saddest  sigh  I  ever  heard,  said :  "Well,  I  am  alone  in  the 
world!" 

The  preacher-captain  sprang  to  his  side,  and  placing  his 
hand  on  the  poor  lad's  shoulder,  said  confidently :  "No,  my 
child ;  you  are  not  alone,  for  the  Bible  says :  'When  my 
father  and  my  mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord  will  take 
me  up;'  and  Allen  was  both  father  and  mother  to  you;  be- 
sides, I  am  going  to  take  you  up,  too ;  you  shall  sleep  under 
my  blanket  to-night." 

There  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the  group ;  and  when,  months 
afterwards,  the  whole  battalion  gathered  on  a  quiet  sabbath 
evening,  on  the  banks  of  Swift  Creek,  to  witness  a  baptism, 
and  Calloway,  at  the  water's  edge,  tenderly  handed  this 
child  to  the  officiating  minister,  and  receiving  him  again 
when  the  ceremony  was  over,  threw  a  blanket  about  the  little 
shivering  form,  carried  him  into  a  thicket,  changed  his 
clothing,  and  then  reappeared,  carrying  the  bundle  of  wet 


COLD    HARBOR   OF    '64  299 

clothes,  and  he  and  the  child  walked  away,  hand  in  hand,  to 
camp — then  there  were  more  tears,  manly,  ennobling  tears, 
and  the  sergeant  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder  and  said, 
"Faith,  Adjutant,  the  Captain  has  fulfilled  his  pledge  to 
that  boy !" 

In  one  of  the  regiments  of  Kershaw's  old  brigade,  which 
was  supporting  our  guns  at  Cold  Harbor,  were  three  young 
men,  brothers,  whose  cool  daring  in  battle  attracted  our 
special  admiration.  We  did  not  know  the  names  of  these 
gallant  fellows,  but  had  christened  them  "Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry."  A  day  or  two  after  the  great  fight  a  fourth  and 
youngest,  a  mere  lad,  who  had  been  wounded  at  the  Wilder- 
ness, came  on  his  crutches  to  visit  his  brothers,  and  they  had 
a  hard  time  getting  him  safely  into  the  trench.  We  no- 
ticed they  called  him  "Fred."  He  was  going  home  on  what 
the  soldiers  called  "a  wounded  furlough ;"  that  is,  a  furlough 
granted  because  of  a  wound,  to  last  until  the  man  should  be 
fit  for  service  again ;  and  as  the  lines  were  quiet  in  the  sultry 
noon,  except,  of  course,  the  spiteful  sputter  of  the  sharp- 
shooters, all  the  men  from  his  neighborhood  were  soon  busy 
painfully  scribbling  on  scraps  of  paper  and  in  the  cramped 
trenches,  letters  for  Fred  to  carry  home. 

Meanwhile,  "Tom,  Dick  and  Harry"  surrounded  their  pet, 
as  he  evidently  was ;  and  indeed  he  was  a  lovely  thing.  We 
had  not  specially  noted  that  the  other  young  men  were  gen- 
tlemen. In  fact,  that  did  not  so  specially  appear  through  the 
dirt  and  rags.  We  had  readily  seen  they  were  "men,"  and 
that  was  what  counted  in  those  days. 

But  Fred — all  the  dirt  was  off  of  him,  and  the  rags,  too, 
and  the  sunburn,  and  the  squalor — they  were  all  gone.  The 
Richmond  ladies  who  had  attended  to  his  wounds  in  the  hos- 
pital had  seen  to  his  toilet  as  well,  which  was  simple  and 
strictly  military,  but  of  the  best  material  and  fitted  perfectly 
his  perfect  figure.  His  thin  skin,  his  blue  veins,  his  small, 
finely- formed  hands  and  feet,  his  beautiful  manners — every- 
thing, in  fact — indicated  that  he  was  the  scion  of  a  noble 
house,  the  flower  of  South  Carolina  chivalry.  In  short,  he 
was  the  most  thoroughbred  and  aristocratic-looking  thing 
any  of  us  had  seen  for  many  a  day.    Compared  with  the  rest 


300  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

of  us  and  in  the  midst  of  our  surroundings,  he  glowed  like 
a  fair  seraph. 

After  a  while  he  warned  the  writers  that  the  mail  was 
about  to  close  and  they  must  bring  in  their  letters ;  that  his 
"old  leg"  was  hurting  him  and  he  must  be  off.  The  men 
gathered  around.  His  haversack  was  filled  with  the  priceless 
letters,  head  and  heart  crowded  to  confusion  with  trite  mes- 
sages, inestimably  precious  to  those  at  home.  He  rose  with 
a  smile  of  weariness  and  pain,  yet  bright  anticipation,  and 
as  he  did  so  said,  "Well,  let  me  take  a  good  look  at  those 
rascals  over  the  way;  for  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  I  get 
another  chance." 

"Look  out,  Fred !"  Too  late !  The  sharp  shock  of  the 
bullet  against  the  skull — he  sprang  up  wildly,  his  cap  flew 
off  and  his  brothers  caught  him  in  their  arms  and  laid  him 
gently  down.  The  home  letters  tumbled  out  of  the  full 
haversack  and  were  dabbled  with  the  blood  of  the  postman ; 
his  brothers  knelt  about  him,  in  a  silent  grief  awful  to  look 
upon,  and  heavy-hearted  comrades  gathered  up  each  his 
blood-stained  package  and  gazed  vacantly  at  it. 

During  the  great  gathering  of  Confederate  soldiers  at  the 
dedication  of  the  Lee  Monument,  in  Richmond,  I  told  this 
story  of  his  Cold  Harbor  lines  and  his  old  brigade  to  Gen- 
eral Kershaw,  when  Gen.  Joseph  E.  Johnston  happened  to 
be  sitting  near.  It  was  too  much  for  General  Johnston. 
Tears  started  to  his  eyes  and  he  reproved  me  sharply  for  tell- 
ing a  story  that  had  in  it  only  dead,  unrelieved  pain.  He 
added  that  he  must  "take  the  taste  of  that  thing  out  of  our 
mouths  as  quickly  as  possible;"  and,  as  sharpshooting  seem- 
ed to  be  the  theme,  he  would  repeat  to  us  a  practical  lecture 
on  that  subject  which  he  once  heard  delivered  by  an  expert 
to  a  novice. 

He  said  it  was  during  the  Atlanta  campaign  that  he  was 
sitting  in  a  clump  of  laurel  on  the  north  face  of  a  mountain, 
cut  beyond  the  bounds  of  his  own  lines,  sweeping  with  a 
glass  the  lines  and  camps  of  Sherman's  army,  which  were 
spread  out  before  him  upon  the  plain  below.  Lie  had  been 
deeply  absorbed  and  was  suddenly  startled  by  hearing  con- 
versation in  a  low  tone  comparatively  near  him.     He  sat 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64  3OI 

absolutely  still  and  peered  about,  until,  to  his  great  relief, 
he  saw  two  gray-brown  figures  stretched  out  side  by  side 
on  the  leaves  but  a  little  distance  in  front  of  him.  One  was 
a  grizzled,  fire-seamed  veteran,  and  the  other  a  beardless 
youth,  and  the  elder  addressed  the  younger,  in  substance, 
as  follows : 

"Now,  Charley,  when  you  ain't  in  a  fight,  but  just  shootin' 
so;  of  course  you  ought  to  get  a  fellow  off  by  himself,  be- 
fore you  let  fly.  Then  the  next  thing  is  to  see  what  you  need 
most  of  anything.-  If  it's  clothes,  why,  of  course,  you  choose 
a  fellow  of  your  own  size;  but  if  it's  shoes  you  want,  you 
just  pick  out  the  very  littlest  weevil-eaten  chap  you  can  find. 
Your  feet  would  slide  'round  in  the  shoes  of  a  Yankee  as  big 
as  you  are  like  they  was  in  flat-boats.  Why,  no  longer  ago 
than  last  evening  I  had  drawed  a  bead  on  a  fine,  great  big 
buck  of  a  fellow,  but  just  as  I  was  about  to  drop  him  I 
looked  around  and  found  I  didn't  have  no  shoes.  So  I  let 
him  pass,  and  pretty  soon  here  come  along  a  little  cuss  of  an 
officer,  and" — raising  his  right  foot,  as  the  old  general  did 
his,  by  way  of  vivid  recital  and  illustration —  "there's  the 
boots/' 

A  word  or  two  as  to  the  volume,  intensity,  and  effect  of 
the  fire  at  Cold  Harbor.  So  far  as  the  Confederate  fire  is 
concerned,  nothing  can  be  needed  to  supplement  the  fearful 
record  of  the  slaughter  upon  the  Federal  side.  But  now 
as  to  the  Federal  fire,  and  first,  of  artillery.  I  think  the  barn 
just  back  of  the  positions  of  Manly' s  guns  and  two  of  the 
Howitzers'  was  Ellyson's.  It  was  cut  down,  cut  up  and  scat- 
tered, and  the  very  ground  so  torn  and  ploughed  by  artillery 
fire  that  it  was  really  difficult,  after  the  battle  was  over,  to 
say  just  where  the  barn  had  stood.  Just  back  of  this  barn 
trees  were  so  constantly  felled  across  the  road  opened  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  in  ammunition  that  it  was  necessary 
to  have  axe-men  constantly  at  hand,  and  they  were  chopping 
almost  continuously.  Once  or  twice  the  falling  trees  and 
limbs  actually  drove  the  division  pioneer  corps  from  the 
work,  and  I  was  forced  to  get  a  detail  from  the  Howitzers  to 
do  the  necessary  chopping. 


302  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

As  to  musketry  fire,  I  remember  counting  ninety  odd  bul- 
let holes  through  a  "dog  tent,"  which  was  stretched  imme- 
diately back  of  Calloway's  guns,  and  he  walked  backward 
and  forward  between  this  tent  and  his  pieces  during  the 
great  attack.  Though  he  did  not  leave  the  field,  he  was 
wounded  in  several  places,  and  his  clothes  looked  as  if  he  had 
been  drawn  through  a  briar  patch.  His  field  glasses  were 
smashed  by  a  bullet  and  the  guard  of  his  revolver  shot  away. 
It  is  fair  to  say  the  same  ball  may  have  made  two  holes 
through  Calloway's  little  tent;  but  on  the  other  hand,  many 
balls  may  have  passed  through  the  same  hole. 

When  we  left  Cold  Harbor  all  our  bronze  guns  looked  as 
if  they  had  had  smallpox,  from  the  striking  and  splaying  of 
leaden  balls  against  them.  Even  the  narrow  lips  of  the 
pieces,  about  their  muzzles,  were  indented  in  this  way.  One 
of  the  guns,  I  think  of  Manly's  battery,  was  actually  cut 
down  by  musketry  fire,  every  spoke  of  both  wheels  being 
cut.  Indeed,  I  had  an  extra  wheel  brought  and  substituted 
for  that  which  first  became  useless,  and  this  also  shared  the 
same  fate.  It  is  my  desire  and  purpose  to  speak  accurately, 
and  therefore  I  take  occasion  to  say  that  I  do  not  intend  to 
imply  that  all  the  spokes  were  completely  severed  and  cut 
in  two  separate  parts.  Some  of  them  were  and  others  were 
not,  but  these  latter  were  so  frayed  and  splintered  that  the 
wheel  would  not  stand  straight  and  could  no  longer  be  used 
as  a  wheel.  Much  of  the  other  wood  work  of  this  and  other 
guns  was  badly  split  and  splintered  by  musket  balls,  and 
some  of  the  lighter  iron  parts  and  attachments  were  shot 
away. 

The  particular  gun  referred  to  was  finally  rendered  abso- 
lutely useless  for  the  rest  of  the  fight.  The  men  had  work- 
ed it,  for  the  most  part,  upon  their  hands  and  knees.  How 
many  of  them  were  killed  and  wounded  I  do  not  recall ;  but 
one  lieutenant  was  killed  and  one  wounded,  while  directing, 
if  I  remember  rightly,  the  fire  of  this  gun  and  the  one  next 
to  it. 

After  the  fight  it  was  necessary  for  some  purpose  to  tip 
this  gun,  when  a  quantity  of  lead,  exactly  how  much  I  would 
not  like  to  say,  but  I  should  think  more  than  a  handful, 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64  303 

poured  out  of  the  muzzle  upon  the  ground.  The  gun  car- 
riage, with  two  of  its  wheels,  was  carried  into  Richmond 
and  hung  up  in  the  arsenal  as  an  evidence  of  what  musketry 
fire  might  be  and  do.  Dr.  Gaines,  of  Gaines'  Mill,  whom  I 
knew  very  well,  had  the  other  wheel  carried  to  his  house.  I 
saw  it  there  a  few  years  later.  The  hub  and  tire  had  actually 
fallen  apart. 

A  brief  epitome  of  some  of  the  salient  features  and  re- 
sults of  the  campaign  of  1864,  from  the  Wilderness  to  Cold 
Harbor,  inclusive,  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest. 

The  campaign  covered,  say  sixty  miles  of  space  and  thirty 
days  of  time.  General  Lee  had  a  little  under  64,000  men  of 
all  arms  present  for  duty  at  the  outset,  and  he  put  hors  de 
combat  of  Grant's  army  an  equal  number  man  for  man.  Mr. 
Swinton,  p.  482  of  his  "Army  of  the  Potomac,"  puts  Grant's 
loss  at  "above  sixty  thousand  men;"  so  that  Grant  lost  in 
killed  and  wounded  and  prisoners  more  than  a  thousand  men 
per  mile  and  more  than  two  thousand  men  per  day  during  the 
campaign. 

Again,  Lee  had,  as  stated,  at  the  start,  present  for  duty, 
less  than  64,000  men,  and  the  reinforcements  he  received 
numbered  14,400  men;  so  that,  from  first  to  last,  he  had 
under  his  command  in  this  campaign,  say  78,400  men ;  while 
Grant  had  at  the  start,  present  for  duty,  141,160  men,  and 
the  reinforcements  he  received  numbered  51,000  men;  so 
that  from  first  to  last  he  had  under  his  command  in  this 
campaign,  say  192,160  men. 

Now,  Grant's  one  desire  and  effort  was  to  turn  Lee's 
either  flank,  preferably  his  right  flank,  and  thus  get  between 
him  and  Richmond.  To  accomplish  this  purpose,  with  his 
preponderance  of  numbers,  he  might  have  left  man  for  man 
in  Lee's  front,  and  at  the  same  time  thrown  an  army  of 
77,000  to  114,000  on  his  flank,  and  yet  he  utterly  failed  to 
get  around  or  to  crush  that  inevitable,  indomitable  flank. 

From  what  I  have  read  and  heard  of  Grant,  and  the  opin- 
ion I  have  formed  of  him,  it  is  my  belief  that  if  this  proposi- 
tion had  been  put  to  him  he  would  have  admitted  candidly 
that  he  would  not  have  dared  to  leave  man  for  man  in  Lee's 
front ;  that  it  would  have  been  utterly  unsafe  for  him  to  do 


304  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

so — a  statement  I  am  certainly  not  prepared  to  dispute.  Well, 
then ;  he  might  have  left  two  for  one  in  front  of  Lee,  and  yet 
have  free  from  13,000  to  36,000  men  with  which  to  turn  his 
flank — and  yet  he  failed  utterly  to  turn  it. 

The  figures  here  used  are  those  of  Col.  Walter  Taylor, 
and  are  less  favorable  to  Lee  than  those  of  most  of  the  Con- 
federate authorities  upon  the  war.  General  Early,  for  exam- 
ple, says  that  Lee,  at  the  outset,  had  less  than  50,000  effec- 
tives of  all  arms  under  his  command. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  accentuate  this  contrast  in  any 
unfair  or  unpleasant  way,  and  yet  an  intelligent  soldier  of 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  who  fought  at  Chancellors- 
ville  in  1863,  and  again  from  the  Rapidan  to  Cold  Harbor 
in  1864,  cannot  but  set  opposite  to  the  picture  just  sketched 
that  of  Lee  holding  the  front  of  Hooker's  92,000  with  "scant 
14,000  muskets,"  while  with  about  one-third  (1-3)  his  num- 
bers he  utterly  crushed  in  the  right  flank  and  rear  of  Hook- 
er's great  host.  It  should  not  be  forgotten  in  this  connec- 
tion, and  in  endeavoring  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  Lee's 
operations  throughout  this  campaign  of  '64,  that  in  the  death 
of  Jackson,  Lee  had  lost  his  great  offensive  right  arm,  to 
which,  at  Chancellorsville  and  theretofore,  he  had  looked  to 
carry  into  execution  his  confounding  strategies  and  his  over- 
powering, resistless  attacks. 

This  last  suggestion  was  made  as  bearing  upon  a  just 
and  balanced  view  of  the  campaign  in  general,  as  well  as 
an  estimate  of  the  ability  displayed  by  Lee  in  the  conduct 
of  it.  I  ask  leave  to  submit  one  other  reflection  of  like 
general  bearing,  as  well  as  tending  to  explain  and  relieve 
what  may  be  regarded  as  adverse  criticism  of  Grant.  I 
said  the  soldiers  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  did 
not  generally  consider  Grant  as  a  great  strategist  or  ma- 
neuverer.  His  friends  have  entered  for  him  a  plea  by 
way  of  confession  and  avoidance  of  this  negative  indict- 
ment— a  good,  sound  plea.  We  cannot  demur  to  it,  and 
the  Court  of  Impartial  History  will  never  strike  it  out  as 
immaterial  or  improper,  nor  record  a  verdict  that  it  is  false. 

I  have  not  before  me  just  now  General  Badeau's  life 
of  his  chief,  but  in  it  he,  in  effect,  says  that  Grant  did  not 


COLD    HARBOR    OF    '64  305 

maneuver  against  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  be- 
cause he  found  maneuvering  of  no  avail  against  that  army. 
Other  Federal  generals  have  made  in  substance  the  same 
remark.  Maneuvering  differs  from  fighting  as  a  force  in 
war,  in  this,  that  fighting  is  purely  physical,  while  ma- 
neuvering gets  in  its  work  largely  upon  the  moral  plane. 
Its  most  deadly  and  disastrous  effect  is  wrought  by  the 
destruction  of  confidence ;  confidence  of  the  out-maneuvered 
general  in  himself  and  in  his  army,  of  the  out-maneuvered 
army  in  itself  and  in  its  general. 

In  the  case  of  Lee's  army  none  of  these  consequences  fol- 
lowed, when,  for  example,  its  huge  adversary  overlapped 
it  upon  one  flank  or  upon  both ;  or  even  turned  its  flank  and 
took  it  in  reverse — a  thing  which  actually  happened  at  least 
once  in  this  campaign,  when  Hancock,  on  the  ioth  of  May, 
at  Spottsylvania,  marched  clean  and  clear  around  our  left 
flank,  and  even,  for  a  time,  drove  us  in  the  fighting  there. 
The  men  in  our  line  fully  appreciated  what  was  happening, 
and  yet  there  was  not  the  slightest  trepidation.  Billy 
chanced  to  be  standing  near  two  intelligent  infantry  sol- 
diers who  were  listening  to  and  looking  at  the  steady  pro- 
gression of  the  fire  and  the  smoke  of  the  fight,  further  and 
further  in  our  rear,  and  quietly  discussing  the  situation.  At 
a  sudden  swell  of  musketry  one  of  them,  removing  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth  and  spitting  upon  the  ground,  said,  "Look 
here,  Tom,  if  those  fellows  should  get  much  further  around 
there  we  would  be  in  a  bad  fix  here ;  we'd  have  to  get  out  of 
this." 

"Law,  John!"  said  his  friend,  "Marse  Robert'll  take  care 
of  those  fellows.     He  knows  just  what  to  do." 

So  we  all  felt,  and  if  he  had  deemed  it  best  and  so  or- 
dered, we  would  have  fought  just  as  steadily  in  two  lines, 
back  to  back  and  facing  both  ways. 

Two  days  later  the  gallant  Hancock  made  further  and, 
if  possible,  higher  proof  of  the  soundness  of  Grant's  plea, 
and  of  the  steadfast,  indomitable  courage  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia,  when  after  bursting  through  its  center 
with  40,000  men,  and  taking  and  holding  the  "Bloody 
Angle,"  embracing,  perhaps,  counting  both  sides,  approxi- 
mately two  miles  of  its  line,  and  capturing  the  infantry  and 


306  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  artillery  that  defended  it,  he  yet  found  himself  unable 
to  advance  one  foot  beyond  the  point  where  the  first  impulse 
had  carried  him,  in  the  darkness  and  surprise,  and  he  en- 
countered, across  the  base  of  the  salient  and  at  each  ex- 
tremity of  the  captured  line,  troops  as  staunch  and  sturdy 
and  unconquerable  as  any  he  had  ever  met  in  battle. 

It  is  this  quality  or  condition,  or  habit  of  mind  and  con- 
duct, of  which  different  Federal  officers  have  spoken  under 
different  names,  in  expressing  their  high  estimate  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  It  is  this  which  General 
Hooker  terms  "discipline,"  in  h!is  remarkable  testimony 
before  the  Committee  on  the  Conduct  of  the  War,  already 
quoted,  in  the  course  of  which,  speaking  of  Lee's  army,  he 
said  "*  *  *  that  army  has  by  discipline  alone  acquired  a 
character  for  steadiness  and  efficiency  unsurpassed,  in  my 
judgment,  in  ancient  or  modern  times." 

It  has  been  said,  and  it  may  be  true  in  a  certain  sense, 
to  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  private  soldiers  of  that  im- 
mortal army,  that  the  army  made  the  general  and  made 
for  him  his  world-wide  fame;  that  General  Lee  through- 
out his  great  career  wielded  an  unrivalled  weapon,  a  weapon 
of  perfect  temper  and  of  finest  edge, — but  it  has  also  been 
said,  and  it  is  also  true,  perhaps  in  a  yet  higher  sense,  that 
the  general  made  the  army ;  that  the  weapon  was  wielded  by 
an  unrivalled  swordsman,  a  swordsman  of  dauntless  courage 
and  of  matchless  skill. 

We  are  free  to  admit  that,  in  our  view,  the  explanation 
of  all  this  is  to  be  found  largely  in  the  fact  that  the  relation 
between  our  general  and  our  army  was  constant  and  per- 
manent, undissolved  and  indissoluble ;  that  we  grew  to  be,  as 
it  were,  one  body  dominated  by  one  great  inspiring  soul; 
and  that  we  came  to  look  with  wonder,  not  unmixed  with 
pity,  upon  the  contrasted  condition  of  the  opposing  Federal 
army,  with  generals  jealous  of  and  plotting  against  each 
other,  and  the  Government  forever  pulling  down  one  and 
putting  up  another.  Nor  are  we  small  enough  to  be  unap- 
preciative  of  the  manhood  which  could  and  did,  even  under 
such  unfavorable  circumstances,  exhibit  the  loyalty  and 
courage  which  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  exhibited  upon 
many  a  hard-fought  field. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FROM     COLD    HARBOR    TO    EVACUATION     OF    RICHMOND    AND 
PETERSBURG 

Grant's  Change  of  Base — Petersburg  Proves  to  Be  His  Immediate  Ob- 
jective— Lee  Just  in  Time  to  Prevent  the  Capture  of  the  City — Our 
Battalion  Stationed  First  in  the  Petersburg  Lines,  Then  Between 
the  James  and  the  Appomattox — The  Writer  Commissioned  Major 
of  Artillery  and  Ordered  to  Chaffm's  Bluff — The  Battalion  There 
Greatly  Demoralized — Measures  Adopted  to  Tone  it  Up — Rapid 
Downward  Trend  of  the  Confederacy — "A  Kid  of  the  Goats"  Gives 
a  Lesson  in  Pluck. 

The  repulse  at  Cold  Harbor  marked  a  crisis  in  the  cam- 
paign. If  Richmond  was  to  continue  to  be  Grant's  immediate 
objective,  there  was  but  one  thing  for  him  to  do, and  that  was 
to  fight,  to  renew  his  attack  upon  Lee's  lines.  He  was  as  close 
to  Richmond  as  he  could  get  by  the  old  process  of  sliding 
southward  and  eastward.  Every  foot  of  further  progress 
in  that  direction  would  be  progress  away  from  the  goal.  He 
must  decide,  then,  between  another  effort  to  force  his  men 
to  the  imminent  deadly  breach  and  the  abandonment  of 
Richmond  as  his  immediate  objective.  It  took  him  nine 
days  to  decide,  and  then  he  folded  his  tents,  like  the  Arabs, 
and  silently  stole  away — at  night,  the  night  of  June  12th. 

He  was  just  in  time.  It  was  not  Lee's  habit  to  give  his 
adversary  the  choice  of  moves,  especially  if  he  took  long 
to  choose.  He  seldom  abandoned  the  initiative — that  is 
where  at  all  practicable  for  him  to  retain  it.  He  had  only 
seemed  to  abandon  it  this  time.  It  would  have  been,  even 
for  him,  an  astounding  piece  of  audacity,  with  his  worn 
and  wasted  little  army,  to  march  out  from  his  intrench- 
ments  and  attack  Grant's  overwhelming  numbers,  yet  he 
had  determined  to  do  this  very  thing.  On  page  37  of  his 
address,  so  often  quoted,  General  Early  says : 


308  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Notwithstanding  the  disparity  which  existed,  he  was  anxious,  as  I 
know,  to  avail  himself  of  every  opportunity  to  strike  an  offensive  blow ; 
and  just  as  Grant  was  preparing  to  move  across  James  River,  with  his 
defeated  and  dispirited  army,  General  Lee  was  maturing  his  plans  for 
taking  the  offensive;  and  in  stating  his  desire  for  me  to  take  the  initia- 
tive with  the  corps  I  then  commanded,  he  said :  "We  must  destroy  this 
army  of  Grant's  before  he  gets  to  James  River.  If  he  gets  there  it  will 
become  a  siege,  and  then  it  will  be  a  mere  question  of  time. 

It  was  the  startling  intelligence  of  Hunter's  operations  in 
the  Valley  which  prevented  the  contemplated  movement 
against  Grant.  It  became  necessary  to  detach,  first  Breck- 
enridge,  and  then  Early,  to  meet  this  new  peril  threatening 
Lee's  communications.  As  Early's  corps  was  to  have  led  the 
attack,  and  because  it  was  worse  than  hopeless  to  attack 
at  all  with  his  army  thus  seriously  reduced,  Lee  was  com- 
pelled to  abandon  his  cherished  plan,  and  Grant  retired  un- 
molested from  Lee's  front  on  the  very  night  that  Early 
received  his  orders  to  move  at  three  o'clock  next  morning 
for  the  Valley ;  so  close  and  critical  was  the  sequence  of 
events  in  these  later  days  of  the  struggle. 

When  we  waked  on  the  morning  of  the  13th  and  found 
no  enemy  in  our  front  we  realized  that  a  new  element  had 
entered  into  this  move — the  element  of  uncertainty.  Thus 
far,  during  the  campaign,  whenever  the  enemy  was  missing, 
we  knew  where,  that  is,  in  what  direction  and  upon  what 
line,  to  look  for  him ;  he  was  certainly  making  for  a  point 
between  us  and  Richmond.  Not  so  now — even  Marse  Rob- 
ert, who  knew  everything  knowable,  did  not  appear  to  know 
what  his  old  enemy  proposed  to  do  or  where  he  would  be 
most  likely  to  find  him. 

I  remember  I  went  across  to  the  Federal  works  and  was 
surprised  to  see  what  a  short  distance  they  were  from  ours, 
and  how  enormous  and  elaborate  they  looked  in  comparison. 
I  have  been  all  over  the  opposing  lines  at  Cold  Harbor  since 
the  war, — so  far  as  they  remain  undisturbed, — and  this  lat- 
ter impression  has  been  confirmed  and  strengthened.  At 
some  points  it  really  seems  as  if  the  Federal  army  had  an- 
ticipated attack  from  every  point,  except  the  skies,  and  for- 
tified against  them  all. 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  3O9 

I  have  little  or  no  recollection  of  our  search  for  Grant, 
except  that  there  was  nothing  about  it  calculated  to  make 
an  impression — that  it  seemed  rather  a  slow,  stupid  affair. 
Of  course  we  crossed  the  Chickahominy,  and  then  we  work- 
ed down  toward  Malvern  Hill.  I  am  not  even  sure,  how- 
ever, whether  we  left  the  vicinity  of  Cold  Harbor  on  the 
13th  or  waited  a  clay  or  two  in  that  neighborhood.  We 
did  not  cross  the  James  River,  I  think,  until  the  night  of 
the  17th;  but  from  that  time  everything  seemed  to  have 
waked  up,  and  though  we  saw  no  enemy,  yet  we  knew 
where  he  was,  and  that  Petersburg  was  his  immediate  ob- 
jective and  not  Richmond,  nor  any  point  on  James  River. 

We  made  a  rapid  all-night  march,  which  was  a  very  try- 
ing one,  on  account  of  the  heat  and  the  heavy  dust  which 
covered  everything  and  everybody  and  rendered  breathing 
all  but  impossible.  We  stopped  an  hour  or  so  to  rest  the 
horses — we  did  not  so  much  regard  the  men — and  arrived 
in  Petersburg  in  the  early  morning,  our  division  and  our 
battalion  being  among  the  first  of  Lee's  troops  to  arrive. 
We  were  just  in  time  to  prevent  Burnside  from  making  an 
assault,  which  would  probably  have  given  him  the  city. 
General  Beauregard  had  made  admirable  use  of  the 
scant  force  at  his  command  and  had  successfully  repulsed  all 
previous  attacks,  but  he  did  not  have  a  garrison  at  all  ade- 
quate to  resist  the  countless  thousands  of  Grant's  main  army, 
which  had  now  begun  to  arrive,  and  which  seems  to  have 
been  deterred  from  the  assault  by  the  knowledge  of  our  ar- 
rival. 

The  whole  population  of  the  city  appeared  to  be  in  the 
streets  and  thoroughly  alive  to  the  narrow  escape  they  had 
made.  Though  we  had  done  nothing  save  to  come  right 
along,  after  we  found  out  where  to  come,  they  seemed  to  be 
overflowing  with  gratitude  to  us.  Ladies,  old  and  young, 
met  us  at  their  front  gates  with  hearty  welcome,  cool  water, 
and  delicious  viands,  and  did  not  at  all  shrink  from  grasp- 
ing our  rough  and  dirty  hands.  There  is  nothing  more  in- 
spiring to  a  soldier  than  to  pass  through  the  streets  of  a  city 
he  is  helping  to  defend,  and  to  be  greeted  as  a  deliverer 
by  its  women  and  children.    He  would  be  a  spiritless  wretch 


3IO  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

indeed  who  could  not  be  a  hero  after  passing  through  a 
scene  like  this.  Grant's  men  did  not  seem  to  yearn  for 
close  contact  with  us  immediately  after  such  an  experience, 
and  they  did  wisely  to  defer  that  pleasure. 

We  were  not  at  once  placed  upon  the  lines,  and  some  of 
us  witnessed  scenes  yet  more  intense  when  a  command 
passed  through  the  streets  which  had  in  it  what  was  left  of 
several  companies  originally  recruited  in  Petersburg.  Every 
now  and  then  along  the  line  of  march  some  squalid,  tattered 
fellow,  with  dust-begrimed  and  sweat-stained  face,  would 
dart  out  of  the  column,  run  up  the  steps  to  the  pillared  porch 
of  a  fine  old  mansion  and  fling  his  arms  about  some  lovely, 
silver-haired  matron,  and  fairly  smother  her  with  kisses; 
she  fervently  returning  his  embrace,  and  following  him 
with  her  blessing  as  he  hurried  to  catch  up  with  the  com- 
mand and  resume  his  place  in  the  ranks. 

My  recollection  is  that  we  were  placed  in  the  works  about 
noon  and  remained  only  a  few  hours,  never  firing  a  shot  nor 
seeing  an  enemy;  and  then  followed  an  experience  unpar- 
alleled since  we  left  Leesburg  in  the  spring  of  '62.  Our 
guns  were  withdrawn  late  in  the  night  and  we  passed  back 
through  Petersburg,  recrossed  the  Appomattox  River,  and 
were  stationed  on  the  lines,  between  that  and  the  James, 
near  the  Dunn  house,  the  Howitzers  quartered  in  the  house ; 
and  there  the  battalion  remained  from  say  the  20th  of  June, 
1864,  until  the  2d  of  April,  1865,  without  ever  so  much  as 
■firing  a  shot  or  being  fired  at  by  an  enemy,  except  that  I 
have  an  indistinct  recollection  of  our  taking  a  rifled  gun,  I 
think  of  Manly's  battery,  a  little  in  advance  and  to  the  left 
of  our  regular  position,  and  taking  a  shot  or  two  at  the 
astronomer  or  observer  in  General  Butler's  tower.  This 
was  really  a  little  hard  on  that  gentleman,  as  I  am  confi- 
dent he  never  did  us  any  harm;  but  then  I  am  equally  con- 
fident we  did  not  do  him  any.  On  the  contrary,  we  gave 
him  a  little  respite  from  his  high  and  exalted  position  and 
his  exhausting  observations. 

I  said  the  experience  was  unparalleled.  I  refer  of  course  to 
our  being  placed  in  such  a  safe  and  easy  position.  Both  the 
preceding  winters  we  had  passed  upon  the  advanced  picket 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  3II 

line  of  the  army — while  most  of  the  artillery  was  quartered 
on  the  railroad  in  comfortable  winter  camps.  We  were  not 
responsible  for  being-  now,  as  it  were,  "mustered  out  of  serv- 
ice;" yet  we  could  not  repress  a  vague  feeling  that,  somehow, 
we  were  not  doing  our  full  duty.  Especially  was  this  feeling 
intensified  when,  a  few  months  later,  Mahone's  division, 
which  had  been  manning  a  very  trying  part  of  the  Peters- 
burg lines,  was  brought  over  between  the  Appomattox  and 
the  James  to  relieve  Pickett's,  which  was  sent  north  of  the 
James.  We  thought  we  had  before  seen  men  with  the 
marks  of  hard  service  upon  them ;  but  the  appearance  of  this 
division  of  Mahone's,  and  particularly  of  Finnegan's  Florida 
brigade,  with  which  we  happened  to  be  most  closely  asso- 
ciated, made  us  realize,  for  the  first  time,  what  our  comrades 
in  the  hottest  Petersburg  lines  were  undergoing.  We  were 
shocked  at  the  condition,  the  complexion,  the  expression  of 
the  men,  and  of  the  officers,  too,  even  the  field  officers;  in- 
deed we  could  scarcely  realize  that  the  unwashed,  uncombed, 
unfed  and  almost  unclad  creatures  we  saw  were  officers  oi 
rank  and  reputation  in  the  army  It  was  a  great  pleasure, 
too,  to  note  these  gallant  fellows,  looking  up  and  coming 
out,  under  the  vastly  improved  conditions  in  which  they 
found  themselves. 

Sometime,  I  think  in  December,  '64, — strange  as  it  may 
appear,  I  am  not  certain  of  the  date — I  was  promoted  to 
be  major  of  artillery,  and  ordered  on  duty  with  the  battal- 
ion of  heavy  artillery  at  Chaffin's  Bluff,  on  the  north  side  of 
the  James  River,  about  ten  or  twelve  miles  below  Richmond, 
and  about  a  mile  below  Drewry's  Bluff,  which  was  on  the 
south  side.  There  were  batteries  of  heavy  guns  on  the  shore 
at  both  these  points,  the  battalions  manning  them  being  also 
armed  with  muskets,  and  our  iron-clads  were  anchored  in 
the  river  about  and  between  the  two  land  batteries.  These 
iron-clads  were  manned  by  a  body  of  marines  and  seamen 
under  command  of  Admiral  Tucker.  At  the  close  of  the 
campaign  proper  of  1864  all  the  troops  manning  the  defenses 
of  Richmond  who  were  not  strictly  of  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  were  under  command  of  Lieutenant-General  Ewell, 
who  was  in  charge  of  the  Department  of  Richmond.     The 


312  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

heavy  artillery  battalions  on  the  river — the  Chaffin's  Bluff 
battalion  among  them — and  the  local  troops  manning  the 
parts  of  the  line  adjacent  thereto  constituted  the  division  of 
Gen.  Custis  Lee,  eldest  son  of  Gen.  Robert  E.  Lee,  a  man 
of  the  highest  character  and  an  officer  of  the  finest  culture 
and  a  very  high  order  of  ability.  He  did  not  have  a  fair 
opportunity  during  the  war,  President  Davis,  of  whose 
staff  he  was  a  member,  refusing  to  permit  him  to  go  to  the 
field,  though  he  plead  earnestly  to  do  so.  He  was  a  most 
sensitive  and  modest  gentleman,  and  would  have  rejoiced 
to  command  even  a  regiment  in  his  father's  army.  After 
he  was  sent  to  the  field,  in  the  modified  way  in  which  he  was 
sent  near  the  close  of  the  war,  he  more  than  once  told  me 
that  every  time  he  met  one  of  his  father's  veteran  fighting 
colonels  he  felt  compromised  at  having  the  stars  and  wreath 
of  a  major-general  on  his  collar. 

When  I  first  went  to  Chaffin's,  Colonel  Hardaway,  of 
the  Field  Artillery  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  was 
in  command,  but,  as  I  remember,  he  left  very  soon.  Some 
time  before  the  end,  Major  Gibbes,  who  had  served  with  our 
battalion  (Cabell's)  during  a  part  of  the  campaign  of  '64, 
was  sent  there,  and  of  course  ranked  me;  but  for  a  consid- 
erable time  I  was  in  command  of  the  post  and  of  the  bat- 
talion, and  of  course  was  greatly  interested  in  becoming 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  my  duties  and  my  men. 

They  were  splendid  soldiers  in  external  appearance  and 
bearing.  I  had  never  seen  anything  approximating  to  them 
in  the  field.  Their  dress-parades,  inspections,  reports,  sa- 
lutes, bearing  in  the  presence  of  officers  and  on  guard  were 
wonderfully  regular,  accurate,  and  according  to  the  drill  and 
regulations.  The  mint,  anise,  and  cumin  were  most  scrupu- 
lously tithed ;  but  the  weightier  matters  of  the  soldier  law — 
patriotism,  devotion,  loyalty,  fidelity,  courage,  endurance, — 
how  as  to  these?  Perhaps  the  first  day  I  was  in  command 
the  sergeant-major  and  acting-adjutant  brought  me  his  re- 
port, which  I  looked  over  and  found  very  satisfactory — 
until  I  came  to  the  added  foot-note,  that  a  first  lieutenant 
and  several  non-commissioned  officers  and  men  had  "disap- 
peared" the  preceding  day  while  on  a  "wood  detail"  down 
the  river. 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  313 

I  recalled  the  adjutant  and  asked  him  what  that  entry- 
meant.  He  seemed  surprised  and  did  not  answer  promptly. 
Changing  the  form  of  the  question,  I  asked  if  it  was  possi- 
ble it  meant  what  it  seemed  to  mean,  and  he  replied  that 
it  did.  I  made  him  sit  down  and  tell  me  all  he  knew  of 
the  matter,  in  the  course  of  the  conversation  sending  for 
his  book  of  reports  and  examining  them  for  some  time  back. 
I  saw  no  entry  quite  so  shocking  as  the  report  of  the  day,  but 
found  that  entries  of  like  character  were  not  infrequent; 
that  every  few  days  these  details  were  sent  down  the  river 
to  get  wood  and  were  in  the  habit  of  meeting  emissaries  sent 
by  the  enemy  for  the  purpose,  who  offered  them  every  in- 
ducement to  desert;  that  these  inducements  were  embodied 
also  in  printed  circulars,  one  of  which  was  shown  me.  I 
was  horrified,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  day  or  two  made 
a  careful  investigation  into  the  character  and  condition  of 
the  command,  the  result  of  which  was  anything  but  satis- 
factory. 

I  hardly  knew  what  to  do,  but  through  the  acting-adju- 
tant, who  turned  out  to  be  an  excellent  fellow  and  a  trust- 
worthy, useful,  and  promising  officer,  I  was  enabled  to 
secure  a  conference  of  the  best  officers  of  the  battalion,  and 
in  a  long  interview  to  secure  their  confidence  and  co-opera- 
tion, and  we  set  to  work  together  to  change  the  condition 
of  things.  I  ingratiated  myself,  too,  with  the  men  by  doing 
away  with  a  number  of  petty  orders  and  regulations  which 
were  annoying  and  burdensome,  and  instituting  in  their 
place  a  few  which  were  really  important.  Among  other 
things  I,  of  course,  did  away  with  this  down-the-river  wood- 
detail. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  particularize  further.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  I  endeavored  to  impress  upon  the  men  three  things : 
first,  that  I  already  knew  a  great  deal  about  them  and  ex- 
pected and  intended  to  know  them  thoroughly ;  second,  that 
I  was  in  command  of  them  and  expected  and  intended  to 
be  obeyed  implicitly;  and  third,  that  I  was  their  friend  and 
expected  and  intended  to  do  the  very  best  I  could  for  them 
in  every  way.  I  will  only  add  that  I  was  deeply  stirred,  and 
put  my  whole  heart  and  soul  into  the  matter  and  into  my 


314  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

men,  and  that  my  efforts  ultimately  effected  more  than  I  had 
even  dared  to  hope ;  particularly  in  the  line  of  securing  the  re- 
spect and  confidence  and  friendly  regard  of  the  men.  The 
greatest  difficulty  was  encountered  in  the  fact  that  not  a  few 
of  the  officers  were  utterly  worthless,  and  I  determined  to  get 
rid  of  these,  but  as  to  this  was  compelled  to  move  slowly. 

One  other  measure  adopted  certainly  ought  to  be  men- 
tioned. There  were  a  good  many  Christian  men  in  the  com- 
mand, but  they  seemed  to  have  little  or  no  social  or  public 
religious  life.  I  had  these  assembled  for  special,  infor- 
mal conference  with  the  commanding  officer.  I  talked  with 
them,  in  a  general  way,  about  the  condition  of  the  command, 
and  asked  their  interest  and  assistance  in  doing  everything 
possible  to  improve  it  and  tone  it  up,  and  gave  notice  that  I 
would  myself,  whenever  it  was  practicable,  conduct  a  simple 
religious  service  on  Sunday  evenings  in  our  log  church,  to 
which  all  were  invited,  but  none  would  be  compelled  to  at- 
tend. I  believe  this  little  service  conduced  as  much  as  any 
other  means  or  measure  to  such  success  as  attended  my 
efforts. 

I  had  but  two  difficulties  with  the  men.  One  was  a  sim- 
ple, though  aggravated,  case  of  open  disrespect  to  some  an- 
nouncement or  order  having  to  do  with  the  new  order  of 
things,  and  which  was  read  at  dress-parade.  This  I  pun- 
ished on  the  spot,  and  severely,  and  we  never  had  any  repe- 
tition of  it.  The  other  was  a  more  complicated  and  trouble- 
some affair. 

The  weather  was  very  cold,  and  after  I  put  a  stop  to  the 
wood-detail  down  the  river,  the  men  began  cutting  some  of 
the  standing  timber  upon  and  back  of  the  bluff;  but  orders 
were  sent  me  by  competent  authority  forbidding  this,  and 
these  orders  were  duly  read  at  dress-parade  and  also  posted. 
I  did  the  best  I  could  to  provide  wood,  but  the  supply  was 
inadequate,  and  the  men  really  suffered.  I  explained  how 
much  I  regretted  the  situation  and  added  that  I  fared 
and  should  fare  no  better  than  they.  I  was  compelled, 
of  course,  to  have  fire  in  the  adjutant's  office,  where  writing 
must  be  done;  but  I  should  have  none  in  my  house  except 
when  they  had  it  in  their  houses,  and  no  more  wood  than 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  315 

they  had,  and  I  urged  the  observance  of  the  regulation 
against  cutting  wood  on  the  bluff,  to  which  special  import- 
ance seemed  to  be  attached  by  the  authorities. 

The  men  were  resentful  and  rebellious  about  this  regula- 
tion against  felling  trees.  My  order  stopping  the  river  wood- 
detail  was  the  obvious  consequence  of  the  disgraceful  ac- 
tion of  their  comrades,  and  that  they  did  not  seem  to  resent. 
But,  one  cold  night,  soon  after  my  special  utterance  about 
the  preservation  of  the  timber,  while  lying  awake  in  bed — - 
very  likely  from  cold — I  heard  the  regular  blows  of  two 
axes  upon  a  tree.  I  got  up,  dressed,  and  armed  myself,  and 
made  my  way  through  the  snow,  guided  by  the  sound,  until 
I  was  close  upon  two  men  who  were  chopping  at  a  large  tree 
which  was  about  toppling  to  its  fall.  I  waited  until  it  did 
fall  and  then  came  suddenly  upon  them.  They  started  to 
run,  but  I  ordered  them  to  halt,  impressing  the  order  with 
my  revolver,  and  adding  that  I  knew  them  both.  I  re- 
minded them  that  they  could  not  possibly  plead  ignorance 
of  the  order  and  asked  how  they  thought  I  ought  to  punish 
them,  to  which,  of  course,  they  made  no  response.  I  then 
expressed  deep  sympathy  with  them;  adding  that,  though 
it  would  break  up  discipline  to  allow  sympathy  with  suffer- 
ing to  excuse  flagrant  violation  of  orders,  yet  as  it  was  the 
first  offense,  and  they  were  so  entirely  in  my  power,  and 
seemed  to  admit  the  truth  and  force  of  all  I  had  said,  I  had 
determined  to  take  no  further  notice  of  the  matter.  They 
thanked  me  profusely  and  were  about  to  return  to  their 
quarters,  but  I  ordered  them  to  remain  and  cut  up  the  tree 
for  use ;  but  that,  of  course,  it  should  be  divided  among  the 
command  or  distributed  by  the  quartermaster  with  his  other 
wood.  I  exacted  from  them  a  promise  not  only  not  to  fell 
any  more  trees  themselves,  but  to  do  all  in  their  power  to 
put  a  stop  to  tree-cutting  by  others.  The  two  men  told  this 
story  around  the  battalion,  with  considerable  amplification 
and  adornment.  It  seemed  to  make  an  unexpectedly  strong 
and  favorable  impression  and  was  one  of  the  definite  things 
that  aided  the  accomplishment  of  my  intense  desire  to  get 
hold  of  my  men. 

Of  course  I  greatly  missed  my  old  life,  and  especially  its 
congenial  and  often  charming  companionship.     This   life 


3l6  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

was  comparatively  solitary,  but  it  was  after  all  a  life  of 
greater  power,  a  life  that  meant  more,  and  I  was  becoming 
deeply  absorbed  in  it.  I  felt  more  and  more  what  a  tremen- 
dous thing  it  was  to  have  almost  absolute  power  over  men 
and  to  be  in  a  position  where  I  could  well  nigh  mould  them 
to  my  will.  Billy  came  over  to  see  me  after  I  had  gotten 
pretty  well  under  way  in  my  work,  and  seemed  thoroughly  to 
agree  with  me  about  it;  though  it  was  shocking  to  him  to 
be  brought  into  contact  with  soldiers  of  such  a  stamp  and 
standard  as  I  have  described. 

Colonel  Hardaway's  old  battalion  was  composed  of  as  tine 
material  as  any  in  General  Lee's  army,  and  I  did  not  won- 
der that  he  preferred  to  return  to  it.  Just  before  or  just 
after  we  abandoned  our  lines,  General  Alexander  requested 
that  both  Major  Gibbes  and  myself  should  be  sent  to  him, 
one  to  serve  in  Hardaway's  battalion  and  one  in  Haskell's. 
But  Gen.  Custis  Lee,  commanding  our  division,  declined  to 
give  up  both  of  us,  and  as  Gibbes  ranked  me,  he  had  the 
choice  and  went  to  Hardaway,  while  I  remained  with  my 
Chaffin's  Bluff  battalion,  not  only  in  command,  but  the  only 
field  officer  connected  with  it. 

I  recall  but  one  incident  of  these  lines  worth  relating. 
After  the  loss  of  Fort  Harrison  in  September,  '64,  our  picket 
line  was  retired  and  the  enemy's  advanced,  in  front  of  the 
fort ;  but  nearer  the  river  we  still  held  our  old  line,  and  upon 
it  a  wooded  knoll  which  commanded  a  full  view  of  the 
enemy's  main  line,  and  so  was  very  important  to  us  and  our 
tenure  of  it  correspondingly  annoying  to  them.  The  Fed- 
eral lines  at  this  point  were  manned  by  negro  troops. 

One  evening,  sitting  on  the  knoll  and  looking  toward 
Fort  Harrison,  several  hundred  yards  distant,  I  observed  the 
negro  picket  near  the  intersection  of  our  old  picket  line  and 
theirs,  walking  his  beat  upon  our  line,  instead  of  theirs,  and 
so  coming  directly  toward  me.  Then  he  took  his  return 
beat  toward  the  fort,  but  when  he  came  again  he  extended  his 
beat  further  in  my  direction,  and  another  followed  him.  So 
the  next  time  there  were  three  of  them  upon  our  line,  and  I 
divined  their  purpose,  which  was  by  moral  pressure,  as  it 
were,  to  crowd  us  back  from  the  knoll. 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  317 

I  had  only  two  men  with  me,  but  I  dispatched  one  to  Gen- 
eral Custis  Lee,  with  a  brief  note  of  explanation,  asking  that 
fifty  men  be  sent  me  immediately.  Meanwhile  I  mounted 
my  remaining  man  on  our  old  picket  line,  faced  toward  Fort 
Harrison,  and  ordered  him  to  walk  rapidly — I  walking  at 
his  side — just  inside  the  little  curtain  of  earth. 

When  the  negroes  saw  us  coming  they  turned  back  and  I 
could  see  the  one  nearest  us  was  trembling  as  he  heard  our 
steps  approaching.  When  we  came  close  upon  him  he  turn- 
ed, his  face  actually  ashy,  and  holding  his  gun  in  both  hands 
horizontally,  he  obtruded  it  towards  us,  at  the  same  time 
backing  away  and  saying : 

"  'Tain't  my  fault.  Officer  ob  de  day  tell  me  to  come  up 
dis  way." 

Noticing  this  revelation,  but  not  remarking  upon  it,  I 
picked  up  a  billet  of  wood  and  laid  it  across  the  top  of  the 
little  work,  between  my  man  and  the  negro,  saying,  "If  that 
negro  steps  across  that  piece  of  wood,  shoot  him;  and  if  he 
steps  off  the  line,  on  either  side,  shoot  him." 

This  broke  up  the  little  scheme.  The  negroes  retired  be- 
yond the  intersection  of  the  lines  and  I  never  saw  one  of 
them  pass  it  again. 

During  the  seven  months  from  September,  '64,  to  March, 
'65,  inclusive,  no  intelligent  man  could  fail  to  note  the  trend 
and  progress  of  events.  The  defeat  of  Hood,  the  fall  of 
Atlanta,  the  unfortunate  expedition  into  Tennessee,  the 
march  of  Sherman  southward  through  Georgia  to  the  ocean, 
his  march  northward  through  the  Carolinas  to  Goldsboro, 
the  fall  of  Savannah,  of  Charleston,  of  Wilmington — all 
these  and  other  defeats,  losses,  and  calamities  had  left  to 
the  Confederacy  little  save  its  Capital  and  the  narrow  strips 
of  country  bordering  on  the  three  railroads  that  fed  it.  Of 
course  I  was — we  all  were — thoroughly  aware  of  this,  and 
yet,  though  it  may  be  difficult  now  to  realize  it,  we  did  not 
even  approximate  the  failure  of  heart  or  of  hope.  One  of 
our  dreams  was  that  Lee,  having  the  inner  line,  might  draw 
away  from  Grant,  concentrate  with  Johnston,  and  crush 
Sherman,  and  then,  turning,  the  two  might  crush  Grant. 
Yet  we  relied  not  so  much  on  any  special  plans  or  hopes, 


318  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

but  rather  upon  the  inherently  imperishable  cause,  the  in- 
herently unconquerable  man.  Fresh  disaster  each  day  did 
not  affect  our  confidence.  We  were  quite  ready  to  admit, 
indeed  we  had  already  contemplated  and  discounted  any- 
thing and  everything  this  side  of  the  ultimate  disaster; 
but  that — never! 

This  was  emphatically  my  position.  I  well  remember  that 
after  the  evacuation  and  on  the  retreat, — indeed  but  one  day 
before  Sailor's  Creek, — I  left  the  line  of  march  for  an  hour 
to  see  my  mother,  who  was  refugeeing  in  Amelia  County, 
at  the  country  home  of  a  prominent  gentleman  of  Richmond, 
beyond  military  age,  who,  when  he  saw  me,  exclaimed : 

"Ah,  Bob,  my  dear  boy ;  it  is  all  over !" 

"Over,  sir?"  said  I,  with  the  greatest  sincerity;  "over? 
Why,  sir,  it  has  just  begun.  We  are  now  where  a  good 
many  of  us  have  for  a  good  while  longed  to  be :  Richmond 
gone,  nothing  to  take  care  of,  foot  loose  and,  thank  God,  out 
of  those  miserable  lines !  Now  we  may  be  able  to  get  what 
we  have  longed  for  for  months,  a  fair  fight  in  an  open  field. 
Let  them  come  on,  if  they  are  ready  for  this,  and  the  sooner 
the  better." 

One  very  inclement  day  in  the  early  spring  of  '65  I  was 
leaving  Richmond,  about  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
for  the  long,  dreary,  comfortless  ride  to  Chaffin's  Bluff.  I 
cannot  recall  ever  having  been  so  greatly  depressed.  I  passed 
Dr.  Hoge's  church  and  noticed  the  silent  women  in  black 
streaming,  with  bowed  heads,  from  all  points,  toward  the 
sanctuary,  and  longed  intently  to  enter  with  them;  but  I 
could  not,  as  it  would  detain  me  too  long  from  my  post. 
Every  face  was  pale  and  sad,  but  resolute  and  prayerful; 
while  every  window  in  the  church — nay,  every  one  in  the 
doomed  city — was  shuddering  with  the  deep  boom  of  artil- 
lery. 

I  passed  on  down  Main  street  and,  where  the  terraced  Libby 
Hill  Park  now  is,  then  a  rough,  unsightly  place,  I  observed 
a  little  kid  cutting  some  unusual  capers  on  the  brink  of  a 
precipitous  bluff.  He  was  evidently  trying  to  force  him- 
self to  make  the  perilous  leap  to  the  street  below,  but  shrank 
from  the  test.     Two  or  three  times  he  trotted  back  a  little 


FROM  COLD  HARBOR  TO  EVACUATION  319 

from  the  brow,  and  ran  forward,  but  he  would  swerve  upon 
the  very  brink,  and  then  would  stand,  first  upon  his  hind 
legs  and  then  his  fore,  and  shake  his  pretty  head,  and  bleat 
and  b-a-a.  At  last  he  went  back  further,  and  coming  on 
at  prodigious  speed,  tried  as  before  to  stop  himself  on  the 
edge,  but  failed,  and  passing  clear  of  the  brow  and  of  all 
obstacles  and  projections,  he  did  light,  sure  enough,  in  the 
level  street,  and  though  a  little  shaken  up,  yet  seemed  to  feel 
that  he  had  done  a  big  thing  and  that  all  his  troubles  were 
behind  him. 

The  game  little  fellow  curvetted  and  danced  and  pranced 
around  the  very  feet  of  my  horse,  seeming  to  strive  to  arrest 
my  attention  and  to  say  to  me :  "Do  you  not  see — the  jump- 
ing-off  place  is  not  the  end  of  all  things  ?  Never  say  die !  If 
you  must  leave  your  present  position  and  jump  off,  do  it  like 
a  man  and  make  the  best  of  it.    The  end  is  not  yet." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE    RETREAT    FROM    CHAFFIN's    BLUFF    TO    SAILOR^    CREEK 

On  the  Works,  Sunday  Evening,  April  2d,  '65,  Listening  to  the  Reced- 
ing Fire  at  Petersburg — Evening  Service  with  the  Men  Interrupted 
by  the  Order  to  Evacuate  the  Lines — Explosions  of  the  Magazines, 
of  the  Land  Batteries  and  Iron-Clads — A  Soldier's  Wife  Sends  Her 
Husband  Word  to  Desert,  But  Recalls  the  Message — Marching, 
Halting,  Marching,  Day  After  Day,  Night  After  Night — Lack  of 
Food,  Lack  of  Rest,  Lack  of  Sleep — Many  Drop  by  the  Wayside, 
Others  Lose  Self-control  and  Fire  into  Each  Other — In  the  Bloody 
Fight  of  the  6th  at  Sailor's  Creek,  the  Battalion  Redeems  Itself, 
Goes  Down  with  Flying  Colors,  and  Is  Complimented  on  the  Field 
by  General  Ewell,  After  He  and  All  Who  Are  Left  of  Us  Are 
Prisoners  of  War. 

Not  many  weeks  later,  on  Sunday,  the  2d  of  April,  I  stood 
almost  all  day  on  our  works  overhanging  the  river,  listening 
to  the  fire  about  Petersburg,  and  noting  its  peculiar  charac- 
ter and  progression.  I  made  up  my  mind  what  it  meant,  and 
had  time  and  space  out  there  alone  with  God  and  upon  His 
day  to  commit  myself  and  mine  to  Him,  and  to  anticipate 
and  prepare  for  the  immediate  future.  Late  in  the  after- 
noon I  walked  back  to  my  quarters,  and  soon  after,  George 
Gary  Eggleston,  who  was  then  in  a  command  that  held  a 
part  of  the  line  near  us,  dropped  in.  He  tells  me  now  that  I 
asked  him  then  what  effect  he  thought  it  would  have  upon 
our  cause  if  our  lines  should  be  broken  and  we  compelled  to 
give  up  Petersburg  and  Richmond ;  and  that  he  declined  to 
answer  the  question  because,  as  he  said,  the  supposed  facts 
were  out  of  the  plane  of  the  practical,  and  would  not  and 
could  not  happen.  Now,  years  afterwards,  recalling  the 
peculiar  expression  and  manner  with  which  I  propounded 
this  interrogatory,  he  asks  whether  I  had  then  received  any 
official  information,  and  I  answer  in  the  negative — no,  none 


THE    RETREAT  321 

whatever.  Up  to  the  time  Eggleston  left  my  camp  for  his 
I  knew  nothing  beyond  what  my  tell-tale  ears  and  prescient 
soul  had  told  me. 

Indeed,  we  went  into  our  meeting  that  night  without  any 
other  information ;  but  I  had  directed  the  acting-adjutant 
to  remain  in  his  office  and  to  bring  at  once  to  me,  in  the 
church,  any  orders  that  might  come  to  hand.  Our  service 
was  one  of  unusual  power  and  interest.  I  read  with  the 
men  the  "Soldier  Psalm,"  the  ninety-first,  and  exhorted 
them,  in  any  special  pressure  that  might  come  upon  us  in 
the  near  future — the  "terror  by  night"  or  the  "destruction 
*  *  *  at  noon-day" — to  abide  with  entire  confidence  in  that 
"Stronghold,"  to  appropriate  that  "Strength." 

As  I  uttered  these  words,  I  noticed  a  well-grown,  fine- 
looking  country  lad  named  Blount,  who  was  leaning  for- 
ward, and  gazing  at  me  with  eager  interest,  while  tears  of 
sympathy  and  appreciation  were  brimming  his  eyes.  The 
door  opened  and  the  adjutant  appeared.  I  told  him  to  stand 
a  moment  where  he  was,  and  as  quietly  as  possible  told  the 
men  what  I  was  satisfied  was  the  purport  of  the  paper  he 
held  in  his  hand,  and  why  I  was  so  satisfied.  And  then  we 
prayed  for  the  realization  of  what  David  had  expressed  in 
that  Psalm — for  faith,  for  strength,  for  protection.  After 
the  prayer  I  called  for  the  paper  and  read  it  over,  first 
silently  and  then  aloud,  gave  brief  directions  to  the  men  and 
dismissed  them — first  calling  upon  such  officers  and  non- 
commissioned officers  of  the  battalion  as  had  special  duties 
to  perform  in  connection  with  the  magazines,  etc.,  to  remain 
a  few  moments.  The  men  were  ordered  to  rendezvous  at  a 
given  hour,  and  to  fall  in  by  companies  on  the  parade,  and 
the  company  officers  were  ordered  to  see  that  they  brought 
with  them  only  what  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  a  brief 
approximate  list  was  given  of  the  proper  campaign  outfit. 
But  the  poor  fellows  had  been  many  months  in  garrison,  and 
it  was  maddening  work,  within  a  short  and  fixed  time,  to  se- 
lect from  their  motley  accumulations  what  was  really  neces- 
sary in  the  changed  conditions  ahead  of  us. 

The  orders  were,  in  general,  that  the  men  of  the  fleet  and 
of  the  James  River  defenses  should  leave  the  river  about 


322  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

midnight  of  the  26.  of  April,  exploding  magazines  and  iron- 
clads, and  join  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  in  its  retreat. 
Orders  such  as  these  were  enough  to  try  the  mettle  even  of 
the  best  troops,  in  the  highest  condition,  but  for  my  poor 
little  battalion  they  were  overwhelming,  well  nigh  stupefy- 
ing. The  marvel  is  that  they  held  together  at  all  and  left  the 
Bluff,  as  they  did,  in  pretty  fair  condition.  A  few  months 
earlier  I  question  whether  they  would  have  been  equal  to  it. 

I  said  they  left  in  pretty  fair  condition,  and  so  they  did, 
except  that  they  had  more  baggage  piled  upon  their  backs 
than  any  one  brigade,  perhaps  I  might  say  division,  in  Gen- 
eral Lee's  army  was  bearing  at  the  same  moment.  I  could 
hardly  blame  them,  and  there  was  no  time  to  correct  the 
folly;  besides,  I  knew  it  would  correct  and  adjust  itself,  as 
it  had  done  pretty  well  by  morning. 

The  explosions  began  just  as  we  got  across  the  river. 
When  the  magazines  at  Chaffin's  and  Drury's  Bluffs  went 
off,  the  solid  earth  shuddered  convulsively;  but  as  the  iron- 
clads— one  after  another — exploded,  it  seemed  as  if  the  very 
dome  of  heaven  would  be  shattered  down  upon  us.  Earth 
and  air  and  the  black  sky  glared  in  the  lurid  light.  Columns 
and  towers  and  pinnacles  of  flame  shot  upward  to  an  amaz- 
ing height,  from  which,  on  all  sides,  the  ignited  shells  flew 
on  arcs  of  fire  and  burst  as  if  bombarding  heaven.  I  dis- 
tinctly remember  feeling  that  after  this  I  could  never  more  be 
startled — no,  not  by  the  catastrophes  of  the  last  great  day. 

I  walked  in  rear  of  the  battalion  to  prevent  straggling, 
and  as  the  successive  flashes  illumined  the  darkness  the 
blanched  faces  and  staring  eyes  turned  backward  upon  me 
spoke  volumes  of  nervous  demoralization.  I  felt  that  a  hare 
might  shatter  the  column. 

We  halted  at  daylight  at  a  country  cross-road  in  Chester- 
field to  allow  other  bodies  of  troops  to  pass,  the  bulk  of  my 
men  lying  down  and  falling  asleep  in  a  grove;  but  seeing 
others  about  a  well  in  the  yard  of  a  farm  house  over  the 
way,  I  deemed  it  best  to  go  there  to  see  that  nothing  was 
unnecessarily  disturbed. 

I  sat  in  the  porch,  where  were  also  sitting  an  old  couple, 
evidently  the  joint  head  of  the  establishment,  and  a  young 


THE    RETREAT  323 

woman  dressed  in  black,  apparently  their  daughter,  and,  as  I 
soon  learned,  a  soldier's  widow.  My  coat  was  badly  torn, 
and  the  young  woman  kindly  offering  to  mend  it,  I  thanked 
her  and,  taking  it  off,  handed  it  to  her.  While  we  were  chat- 
ting, and  groups  of  men  sitting  on  the  steps  and  lying  about 
the  yard,  the  door  of  the  house  opened  and  another  young 
woman  appeared.  She  was  almost  beautiful,  was  plainly  but 
neatly  dressed,  and  had  her  hat  on.  She  had  evidently  been 
weeping  and  her  face  was  deadly  pale.  Turning  to  the  old 
woman,  as  she  came  out,  she  said,  cutting  her  words  off 
short,  "Mother,  tell  him  if  he  passes  here  he  is  no  husband 
of  mine,"  and  turned  again  to  leave  the  porch.  I  rose,  and 
placing  myself  directly  in  front  of  her,  extended  my  arm 
to  prevent  her  escape.  She  drew  back  with  surprise  and 
indignation.  The  men  were  alert  on  the  instant,  and  battle 
was  joined. 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?"  she  cried. 

"I  mean,  madam,"  I  replied,  "that  you  are  sending  your 
husband  word  to  desert,  and  that  I  cannot  permit  you  to  do 
this  in  the  presence  of  my  men." 

"Indeed !  and  who  asked  your  permission,  sir  ?  And  pray, 
sir,  is  he  your  husband  or  mine?" 

"He  is  your  husband,  madam,  but  these  are  my  soldiers. 
They  and  I  belong  to  the  same  army  with  your  husband,  and 
I  cannot  suffer  you,  or  anyone,  unchallenged,  to  send  such 
a  demoralizing  message  in  their  hearing." 

"Army!  do  you  call  this  mob  of  retreating  cowards  an 
army?  Soldiers!  if  you  are  soldiers,  why  don't  you  stand 
and  fight  the  savage  wolves  that  are  coming  upon  us  de- 
fenseless women  and  children?" 

"We  don't  stand  and  fight,  madam,  because  we  are  sol- 
diers, and  have  to  obey  orders,  but  if  the  enemy  should  ap- 
pear on  that  hill  this  moment  I  think  you  would  find  that 
these  men  are  soldiers,  and  willing  to  die  in  defense  of 
women  and  children." 

"Quite  a  fine  speech,  sir,  but  rather  cheap  to  utter,  since 
you  very  well  know  the  Yankees  are  not  here,  and  won't  be, 
till  you've  had  time  to  get  your  precious  carcasses  out  of  the 
way.    Besides,  sir,  this  thing  is  over,  and  has  been  for  some 


324  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

time.  The  Government  has  now  actually  run  off,  bag  and 
baggage, — the  Lord  knows  where, — and  there  is  no  longer 
any  Government  or  any  country  for  my  husband  to  owe  al- 
legiance to.  He  does  owe  allegiance  to  me  and  to  his  starv- 
ing children,  and  if  he  doesn't  observe  this  allegiance  now, 
when  I  need  him,  he  needn't  attempt  it  hereafter  when  he 
wants  me" 

The  woman  was  quick  as  a  flash  and  cold  as  steel.  She 
was  getting  the  better  of  me.  She  saw  it,  I  felt  it,  and,  worst 
of  all,  the  men  saw  and  felt  it,  too,  and  had  gathered  thick 
and  pressed  up  close  all  round  the  porch.  There  must  have 
been  a  hundred  or  more  of  them,  all  eagerly  listening,  and 
evidently  leaning  strongly  to  the  woman's  side. 

This  would  never  do. 

I  tried  every  avenue  of  approach  to  that  woman's  heart. 
It  was  congealed  by  suffering,  or  else  it  was  encased  in 
adamant.  She  had  parried  every  thrust,  repelled  every  ad- 
vance, and  was  now  standing  defiant,  with  her  arms  folded 
across  her  breast,  rather  courting  further  attack.  I  was  des- 
perate, and  with  the  nonchalance  of  pure  desperation — no 
stroke  of  genius — I  asked  the  soldier-question : 

"What  command  does  your  husband  belong  to?" 

She  started  a  little,  and  there  was  a  trace  of  color  in  her 
face  as  she  replied,  with  a  slight  tone  of  pride  in  her  voice : 

"He  belongs  to  the  Stonewall  Brigade,  sir." 

I  felt,  rather  than  thought  it — but,  had  I  really  found  her 
heart  ?    We  would  see. 

"When  did  he  join  it?" 

A  little  deeper  flush,  a  little  stronger  emphasis  of  pride. 

"He  joined  it  in  the  spring  of  '61,  sir."* 

Yes,  I  was  sure  of  it  now.  Her  eyes  had  gazed  straight 
into  mine ;  her  head  inclined  and  her  eyelids  drooped  a  little 
now,  and  there  was  something  in  her  face  that  was  not  pain 


*The  Stonewall  Brigade  was,  of  course,  not  so  named  until  after  the 
first  battle  of  Manassas,  and  it  did  not  exist  an  an  organization  after 
May,  1864;  but  men  who  had  at  any  time  belonged  to  one  of  the  regi- 
ments that  composed  it  ever  after  claimed  membership  in  the  brigade. 
Among  soldiers  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and  yet  more  among 
their  families  and  friends,  once  of  "The  Stonewall  Brigade,"  always  of 
that  immortal  corps. 


THE    RETREAT  325 

and  was  not  fight.  So  I  let  myself  out  a  little,  and  turning  to 
the  men,  said : 

"Men,  if  her  husband  joined  the  Stonewall  Brigade  in  '61, 
and  has  been  in  the  army  ever  since,  I  reckon  he's  a  good 
soldier." 

I  turned  to  look  at  her.  It  was  all  over.  Her  wifehood 
had  conquered.  She  had  not  been  addressed  this  time,  yet 
she  answered  instantly,  with  head  raised  high,  face  flushing, 
eyes  flashing — 

"General  Lee  hasn't  a  better  in  his  army !" 

As  she  uttered  these  words  she  put  her  hand  in  her  bosom, 
and  drawing  out  a  folded  paper,  extended  it  toward  me, 
saying : 

"If  you  doubt  it,  look  at  that." 

Before  her  hand  reached  mine  she  drew  it  back,  seeming  to 
have  changed  her  mind,  but  I  caught  her  wrist,  and  without 
much  resistance,  possessed  myself  of  the  paper.  It  had  been 
much  thumbed  and  was  much  worn.  It  was  hardly  legible, 
but  I  made  it  out.    Again  I  turned  to  the  men. 

"Take  off  your  hats,  boys,  I  want  you  to  hear  this  with  un- 
covered heads" — and  then  I  read  an  endorsement  on  appli- 
cation for  furlough,  in  which  General  Lee  himself  had  sign- 
ed a  recommendation  of  this  woman's  husband  for  a  fur- 
lough of  special  length  on  account  of  extraordinary  gal- 
lantry in  battle. 

During  the  reading  of  this  paper  the  woman  was  trans- 
figured, glorified.  No  Madonna  of  old  master  was  ever  more 
sweetly  radiant  with  all  that  appeals  to  what  is  best  and 
holiest  in  man.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with  deep,  quiet 
sighs ;  her  eyes  rained  gentle,  happy  tears. 

The  men  felt  it  all — all.  They  were  all  gazing  upon  her, 
but  the  dross  was  clean,  purified  out  of  them.  There  was 
not,  upon  any  one  of  their  faces  an  expression  that  would 
have  brought  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of  the  purest  womanhood 
on  earth.    I  turned  once  more  to  the  soldier's  wife. 

"This  little  paper  is  your  most  precious  treasure,  isn't 
it?" 

"It  is." 


326  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

"And  the  love  of  him  whose  manly  courage  and  devo- 
tion won  this  tribute  is  the  best  blessing  God  ever  gave  you, 
isn't  it?" 

"It  is." 

"And  yet,  for  the  brief  ecstasy  of  one  kiss,  you  would  dis- 
grace this  hero-husband  of  yours,  stain  all  his  noble  reputa- 
tion, and  turn  this  priceless  paper  to  bitterness ;  for  the  rear- 
guard would  hunt  him  from  his  own  cottage,  in  half  an  hour, 
a  deserter  and  a  coward." 

Not  a  sound  could  be  heard  save  her  hurried  breathing. 
The  rest  of  us  held  even  our  breath. 

Suddenly,  with  a  gasp  of  recovered  consciousness,  she 
snatched  the  paper  from  my  hand,  put  it  back  hurriedly  in 
her  bosom,  and  turning  once  more  to  her  mother,  said : 

"Mother,  tell  him  not  to  come." 

I  stepped  aside  at  once.  She  left  the  porch,  glided  down 
the  path  to  the  gate,  crossed  the  road,  surmounted  the  fence 
with  easy  grace,  climbed  the  hill,  and  as  she  disappeared  in 
the  weedy  pathway  I  caught  up  my  hat  and  said : 

"Now,  men,  give  her  three  cheers." 

Such  cheers !  Oh,  God !  shall  I  ever  again  hear  a  cheer 
which  bears  a  man's  whole  soul  in  it? 

For  the  first  time  I  felt  reasonably  sure  of  my  battalion. 
It  would  follow  me  anywhere. 

No  Confederate  soldier  who  was  on  and  of  that  fearful 
retreat  can  fail  to  recall  it  as  one  of  the  most  trying  ex- 
periences of  his  life.  Trying  enough,  in  the  mere  fact  that 
the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  was  flying  before  its  foes, 
but  further  trying,  incomparably  trying,  in  lack  of  food  and 
rest  and  sleep,  and  because  of  the  audacious  pressure  of  the 
enemy's  cavalry.  The  combined  and  continued  strain  of  all 
this  upon  soft  garrison  troops,  unenured  to  labor  and  hard- 
ship and  privation  and  peril,  can  hardly  be  conceived  and 
cannot  be  described.  Its  two  most  serious  effects  were 
drowsiness  and  nervousness.  We  crossed  and  left  James 
River  at  midnight  on  Sunday,  were  captured  at  Sailor's 
Creek  about  sundown  on  the  Thursday  following,  and  I 
think  rations  were  issued  to  us  that  night  by  our  captors.  I 
do  not  say  there  was  only  one,  but  I  recall  only  one  issue  of 


THE    RETREAT  327 

rations  between  those  limits,  and  we  were  marching  all  day 
and,  as  I  remember,  a  large  part  of  every  night. 

The  somewhat  disorganized  condition  of  the  troops  and 
the  crowded  condition  of  the  roads  necessitated  frequent 
halts,  and  whenever  these  occurred — especially  after  night- 
fall— the  men  would  drop  in  the  road,  or  on  the  side  of  it, 
and  sleep  until  they  were  roused,  and  it  was  manifestly  im- 
possible to  rouse  them  all.  My  two  horses  were  in  almost 
constant  use  to  transport  officers  and  men  who  had  given 
out,  especially  our  doctor,  whose  horse  was  for  some  rea- 
son unavailable.  Besides,  I  preferred  to  be  on  foot,  for  the 
very  purpose  of  moving  around  among  the  men  and  rousing 
them  when  we  resumed  the  march.  With  this  view  I  was  a 
good  part  of  the  time  at  the  rear  of  the  battalion ;  but  not- 
withstanding my  efforts  in  this  respect,  individually  and 
through  a  detail  of  men  selected  and  organized  for  the  pur- 
pose of  waking  the  sleepers,  we  lost,  I  am  satisfied,  every 
time  we  resumed  the  march  after  a  halt  at  night — men  who 
were  not  found  or  who  could  not  be  roused. 

The  nervousness  resulting  from  this  constant  strain  of 
starvation,  fatigue,  and  lack  of  sleep  was  a  dangerous  thing, 
at  one  time  producing  very  lamentable  results,  which  threat- 
ened to  be  even  more  serious  than  they  were.  One  even- 
ing an  officer,  I  think  of  one  of  our  supply  departments, 
passed  and  repassed  us  several  times,  riding  a  powerful, 
black  stallion,  all  of  whose  furnishings — girths,  reins,  etc., 
— were  very  heavy,  indicating  the  unmanageable  character 
of  the  horse.  When  he  rode  ahead  the  last  time,  about 
dark,  it  seems  that  he  imprudently  hitched  his  horse  by  tying 
his  very  stout  tie  rein  to  a  heavy  fence  rail  which  was  part  of 
the  road  fence.  Something  frightened  the  animal  and  he 
reared  back,  pulling  the  rail  out  of  the  fence  and  dragging 
it  after  him  full  gallop  down  the  road  crowded  with  troops, 
mowing  them  down  like  the  scythe  of  a  war  chariot.  Some- 
one, thinking  there  was  a  charge  of  cavalry,  fired  his  musket 
and,  on  the  instant,  three  or  four  battalions,  mine  among 
them,  began  firing  into  each  other. 

I  was  never  more  alarmed.  Muskets  were  discharged  in 
my  very  face,  and  I  fully  expected  to  be  shot  down;  but 


328  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

after  the  most  trying  and  perilous  experience,  the  command- 
ing officers  succeeded  in  getting  control  of  their  men  and 
getting  them  again  into  formation.  But  while  we  were  talk- 
ing to  them,  suddenly  the  panic  seized  them  again,  and  they 
rushed  in  such  a  wild  rout  against  the  heavy  road  fence  that 
they  swept  it  away,  and  many  of  them  took  to  the  woods, 
firing  back  as  they  ran.  A  second  time  the  excitement  was 
quieted  and  a  third  time  it  broke  out.  By  this  time,  how- 
ever, I  had  fully  explained  to  my  men  that  we  had  just  put 
out  fresh  flankers  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  that  we  could 
not  have  an  attack  of  cavalry  without  warning  from  them, 
and  that  the  safe  and  soldierly  thing  to  do  was  to  lie  down 
until  everything  should  become  calm.  I  was  much  pleased 
that  this  third  time  my  command  did  not  fire  a  shot,  while 
the  battalions  in  our  front  and  rear  were  firing  heavily.  A 
field  officer  and  a  good  many  other  officers  and  men  were 
killed  and  wounded  in  these  alarms,  just  how  many  I  do  not 
believe  was  ever  ascertained. 

When  we  next  halted  for  any  length  of  time,  during  day- 
light, I  formed  my  men  and  talked  to  them  fully  and  quietly 
about  these  alarms,  explaining  the  folly  of  their  firing,  and 
impressing  upon  them  simply  to  lie  down,  keep  quiet,  and 
attempt  to  catch  and  obey  promptly  any  special  orders  I 
might  give.  I  complimented  them  upon  their  having  resisted 
the  panicky  infection  the  last  time  it  broke  out,  and  felt  that, 
upon  the  whole,  my  men  had  gained  rather  than  lost  by 
the  experience. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  we  had  descended  into  a  moist, 
green  little  valley,  crossed  a  small  stream  called  Sailor's 
Creek,  and,  ascending  a  gentle,  grassy  slope  beyond  it,  had 
halted,  and  the  men  were  lying  down  and  resting  in  the  edge 
of  a  pine  wood  that  crowned  the  elevation.  A  desultory 
fire  was  going  on  ahead  and  bullets  began  to  drop  in.  I 
was  walking  about  among  the  men,  seeing  that  everything 
was  in  order  and  talking  cheerfully  with  them,  when  I  heard 
a  ball  strike  something  hard  and  saw  a  little  commotion 
around  the  battalion  colors.  Going  there,  I  found  that  the 
flag-staff  had  been  splintered,  and  called  out  to  the  men  that 
we  were  beginning  to  make  a  record. 


THE    RETREAT  329 

Next  moment  I  heard  an  outcry — "There,  Brookin  is 
killed!" — and  saw  one  of  the  men  writhing  on  the  ground. 
I  went  tc  him.  He  seemed  to  be  partially  paralyzed  below 
the  waist,  but  said  he  was  shot  through  the  neck.  I  saw  no 
blood  anywhere.  He  had  on  his  roll  of  blankets  and,  sure 
enough,  a  ball  had  gone  through  them  and  also  through  his 
jacket  and  flannel  shirt;  but  there  it  was,  sticking  in  the 
back  of  his  neck,  having  barely  broken  the  skin.  I  took  it 
out  and  said :  "O,  you  are  not  a  dead  man  by  a  good  deal. 
Here," — handing  the  ball  to  him, — "take  that  home  and  give 
it  to  your  sweetheart.  It'll  fix  you  all  right."  Brookin 
caught  at  the  ball  and  held  it  tightly  clasped  in  his  hand, 
smiling  faintly,  and  the  men  about  him  laughed. 

Just  then  I  heard  a  shell  whizzing  over  us,  coming  from 
across  the  creek,  and  we  were  hurried  into  line  facing  in  that 
direction,  that  is,  to  the  rear.  I  inferred,  of  course,  that  we 
were  surrounded,  but  could  not  tell  how  strong  the  force 
was  upon  which  we  were  turning  our  backs. 

I  remember,  in  all  the  discomfort  and  wretchedness  of  the 
retreat,  we  had  been  no  little  amused  by  the  Naval  Battalion, 
under  that  old  hero,  Admiral  Tucker.  The  soldiers  called 
them  the  "Aye,  Ayes,"  because  they  responded  "aye,  aye" 
to  every  order,  sometimes  repeating  the  order  itself,  and  add- 
ing, "Aye,  aye,  it  is,  sir!"  As  this  battalion,  which  followed 
immediately  after  ours,  was  getting  into  position,  and  sea- 
men's and  landsmen's  jargon  and  movements  were  getting 
a  good  deal  mixed  in  the  orders  and  evolutions, — all  being 
harmonized,  however,  and  licked  into  shape  by  the  "aye, 
aye," — a  young  officer  of  the  division  staff  rode  up,  saluted 
Admiral  Tucker,  and  said :  "Admiral,  I  may  possibly  be  of 
assistance  to  you  in  getting  your  command  into  line."  The 
Admiral  replied :  "Young  man,  I  understand  how  to  talk 
to  my  people ;"  and  thereupon  followed  "a  grand  moral  com- 
bination" of  "right  flank"  and  "left  flank,"  "starboard"  and 
"larboard,"  "aye,  aye"  and  "aye,  aye" — until  the  battalion 
gradually  settled  down  into  place. 

By  this  time  a  large  Federal  force  had  deployed  into  line 
on  the  other  slope  beyond  the  creek,  which  we  had  left  not 
long    since;    two    or    three   lines    of   battle,    and    a    heavy 


33°  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

park  of  artillery,  which  rapidly  came  into  battery  and  open- 
ed an  accurate  and  deadly  fire,  we  having  no  guns  with 
which  to  reply  and  thus  disturb  their  aim.  My  men  were 
lying  down  and  were  ordered  not  to  expose  themselves.  I 
was  walking  backward  and  forward  just  back  of  the  line, 
talking  to  them  whenever  that  was  practicable,  and  keeping 
my  eye  upon  everything,  feeling  that  such  action  and  ex- 
posure on  my  part  were  imperatively  demanded  by  the  his- 
tory and  condition  of  the  command  and  my  rather  peculiar 
relations  to  it.  A  good  many  had  been  wounded  and  several 
killed,  when  a  twenty-pounder  Parrott  shell  struck  immedi- 
ately in  my  front,  on  the  line,  nearly  severing  a  man  in  twain, 
and  hurling  him  bodily  over  my  head,  his  arms  hanging 
down  and  his  hands  almost  slapping  me  in  the  face  as  they 
passed. 

In  that  one  awful  moment  I  distinctly  recognized  young 
Blount,  who  had  gazed  into  my  face  so  intently  Sunday 
night;  and  but  for  that  peculiar  paralysis  which  in  battle 
sometimes  passes  upon  a  man's  entire  being — excepting  only 
his  fighting  powers — the  recognition  might  have  been  too 
much  for  me. 

In  a  few  moments  the  artillery  fire  ceased  and  I  had  time 
to  glance  about  me  and  note  results  a  little  more  carefully. 
I  had  seldom  seen  a  fire  more  accurate,  nor  one  that  had 
been  more  deadly,  in  a  single  regiment,  in  so  brief  a  time. 
The  expression  of  the  men's  faces  indicated  clearly  enough 
its  effect  upon  them.  They  did  not  appear  to  be  hopelessly 
demoralized,  but  they  did  look  blanched  and  haggard  and 
awe-struck. 

The  Federal  infantry  had  crossed  the  creek  and  were  now 
coming  up  the  slope  in  two  lines  of  battle.  I  stepped  in  front 
of  my  line  and  passed  from  end  to  end,  impressing  upon  my 
men  that  no  one  must  fire  his  musket  until  I  so  ordered ;  that 
when  I  said  "ready"  they  must  all  rise,  kneeling  on  the  right 
knee;  that  when  I  said  "aim"  they  must  all  aim  about  the 
knees  of  the  advancing  line;  that  when  I  said  "fire"  they 
must  all  fire  together,  and  that  it  was  all-important  they 
should  follow  these  directions  exactly,  and  obey,  implicitly 
and  instantly,  any  other  instructions  or  orders  I  might 
give. 


THE    RETREAT  33  I 

The  enemy  was  coming  on  and  everything  was  still  as  the 
grave.  My  battalion  was  formed  upon  and  around  a  swell 
of  the  hill,  which  threw  it  further  to  the  front  than  any  other 
command  in  the  division,  so  that  I  was  compelled  to  shape 
my  own  course,  as  I  had  received  no  special  orders.  The 
Federal  officers,  knowing,  as  I  suppose,  that  we  were  sur- 
rounded, and  appreciating  the  fearful  havoc  their  artillery 
fire  had  wrought,  evidently  expected  us  to  surrender  and 
had  their  white  handkerchiefs  in  their  hands,  waving  them 
toward  us,  as  if  suggesting  this  course;  and  yet,  so  far  as  I 
remember,  they  did  not  call  upon  us  to  surrender.  I  do  not 
recall  any  parallel  to  this  action. 

I  dislike  to  break  the  flow  and  force  of  the  narrative  by 
repeated  modifying  references  to  recollection  and  memory; 
but  it  is  not  safe  for  a  man,  so  many  years  after  the  event, 
to  be  positive  with  regard  to  details  unless  there  was  spe- 
cial reason  why  they  should  have  been  impressed  upon  him 
ar  the  time.  I  will  say,  then,  that  my  memory  records  no 
musket  shot  on  either  side  up  to  this  time,  our  skirmishers 
having  retired  upon  the  main  line  without  firing.  The  enemy 
showed  no  disposition  to  break  into  the  charge,  but  continued 
to  advance  in  the  same  deliberate  and  even  hesitating  man- 
ner, and  I  allowed  them  to  approach  very  close — I  should  be 
afraid  to  say  just  how  close — before  retiring  behind  my  men. 
I  had  continued  to  walk  along  their  front  for  the  very  pur- 
pose of  preventing  them  from  opening  fire;  but  now  I 
stepped  through  the  line,  and,  stationing  myself  about  the 
middle  of  it,  called  out  my  orders  deliberately — the  enemy,  I 
am  satisfied,  hearing  every  word.  "Ready!"  To  my  great 
delight  the  men  rose,  all  together,  like  a  piece  of  mechanism, 
kneeling  on  their  right  knees  and  their  faces  set  with  an  ex- 
pression that  meant — everything.  "Aim!"  The  musket 
barrels  fell  to  an  almost  perfect  horizontal  line  leveled  about 
the  knees  of  the  advancing  front  line.     "Fire  !" 

I  have  never  seen  such  an  effect,  physical  and  moral,  pro- 
duced by  the  utterance  of  one  word.  The  enemy  seemed 
to  have  been  totally  unprepared  for  it,  and,  as  the  sequel 
showed,  my  own  men  scarcely  less  so.  The  earth  appeared 
to  have  swallowed  up  the  first  line  of  the  Federal  force  in  our 


33 2  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

front.  There  was  a  rattling  supplement  to  the  volley  and  the 
second  line  wavered  and  broke. 

The  revulsion  was  too  sudden.  On  the  instant  every  man 
in  my  battalion  sprang  to  his  feet  and,  without  orders,  rush- 
ed, bareheaded  and  with  unloaded  muskets,  down  the  slope 
after  the  retreating  Federals.  I  tried  to  stop  them,  but  in 
vain,  although  I  actually  got  ahead  of  a  good  many  of  them. 
They  simply  bore  me  on  with  the  flood. 

The  standard-bearer  was  dashing  by  me,  colors  in  hand, 
when  I  managed  to  catch  his  roll  of  blankets  and  jerk  him 
violently  back,  demanding  what  he  meant,  advancing  the 
battalion  colors  without  orders.  As  I  was  speaking,  the 
artillery  opened  fire  again  and  he  was  hurled  to  the  earth, 
as  I  supposed,  dead.  I  stooped  to  pick  up  the  flag,  when  his 
brother,  a  lieutenant,  a  fine  officer  and  a  splendid-looking  fel- 
low, stepped  over  the  body,  saying:  "Those  colors  belong 
to  me,  Major!"  at  the  same  time  taking  hold  of  the  staff. 
He  was  shot  through  the  brain  and  fell  backward.  One 
of  the  color  guard  sprang  forward,  saying:  "Give  them  to 
me,  Major!"  But  by  the  time  his  hand  reached  the  staff  he 
was  down.  There  were  at  least  five  men  dead  and  wounded 
lying  close  about  me,  and  I  did  not  see  why  I  should  continue 
to  make  a  target  of  myself.  I  therefore  jammed  the  color 
staff  down  through  a  thick  bush,  which  supported  it  in  an 
upright  position,  and  turned  my  attention  to  my  battalion, 
which  was  scattered  over  the  face  of  the  hill  firing  irregu- 
larly at  the  Federals,  who  seemed  to  be  reforming  to  renew 
the  attack.  I  managed  to  get  my  men  into  some  sort  of 
formation  and  their  guns  loaded,  and  then  charged  the  Fed- 
eral line,  driving  it  back  across  the  creek,  and  forming  my 
command  behind  a  little  ridge,  which  protected  it  somewhat. 

I  ran  back  up  the  hill  and  had  a  brief  conversation  with 
General  Custis  Lee, — commanding  the  division,  our  brigade 
commander  having  been  killed, — explaining  to  him  that  I 
had  not  ordered  the  advance  and  that  we  would  be  cut  off 
if  we  remained  long  where  we  were,  but  that  I  was  satisfied 
I  could  bring  the  battalion  back  through  a  ravine,  which 
would  protect  them  largely  from  the  fire  of  the  enemy's  ar- 
tillery, and  reform  them  on  the  old  line,  on  the  right  of  the 


THE    RETREAT  333 

naval  battalion,  which  had  remained  in  position.  He  ex- 
pressed his  doubts  as  to  this,  but  I  told  him  I  believed  my 
battalion  would  follow  me  anywhere,  and  with  his  permis- 
sion I  would  try  it.  I  ran  down  the  hill  again  and  explained 
to  my  men  that  when  I  got  to  the  left  of  the  line  and  shouted 
to  them  they  were  to  get  up  and  follow  me,  on  a  run  and 
without  special  formation,  through  a  ravine  that  led  back  to 
the  top  of  the  hill.  Just  because  these  simple-hearted  fellows 
knew  only  enough  to  trust  me,  and  because  the  enemy  was 
not  so  far  recovered  as  to  take  advantage  of  our  exposure 
while  executing  the  movement  to  the  rear  and  reforming, 
we  were  back  in  the  original  lines  in  a  few  moments — that 
is,  all  who  were  left  of  us. 

It  was  of  no  avail.  By  the  time  we  had  well  settled  into 
our  old  position  we  were  attacked  simultaneously,  front  and 
rear,  by  overwhelming  numbers,  and  quicker  than  I  can  tell 
it  the  battle  degenerated  into  a  butchery  and  a  confused 
melee  of  brutal  personal  conflicts.  I  saw  numbers  of  men 
kill  each  other  with  bayonets  and  the  butts  of  muskets,  and 
even  bite  each  others'  throats  and  ears  and  noses,  rolling 
on  the  ground  like  wild  beasts.  I  saw  one  of  my  officers 
and  a  Federal  officer  fighting  with  swords  over  the  battalion 
colors,  which  we  had  brought  back  with  us,  each  having  his 
left  hand  upon  the  staff.  I  could  not  get  to  them,  but  my 
man  was  a  very  athletic,  powerful  seaman,  and  soon  I  saw 
the  Federal  officer  fall. 

I  had  cautioned  my  men  against  wearing  "Yankee  over- 
coats," especially  in  battle,  but  had  not  been  able  to  enforce 
the  order  perfectly — and  almost  at  my  side  I  saw  a 
young  fellow  of  one  of  my  companies  jam  the  muzzle  of  his 
musket  against  the  back  of  the  head  of  his  most  intimate 
friend,  clad  in  a  Yankee  overcoat,  and  blow  his  brains  out. 
I  was  wedged  in  between  fighting  men,  only  my  right  arm 
free.  I  tried  to  strike  the  musket  barrel  up,  but  alas,  my 
sword  had  been  broken  in  the  clash  and  I  could  not  reach  it. 
T  well  remember  the  yell  of  demoniac  triumph  with  which 
that  simple  country  lad  of  yesterday  clubbed  his  musket  and 
whirled  savagely  upon  another  victim. 

I  don't  think  I  ever  suffered  more  than  during  the  few 
moments  after   I   saw  that   nothing  could   possibly   affect 


334  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

or  change  the  result  of  the  battle.  I  could  not  let  myself  de- 
generate into  a  mere  fighting  brute  or  devil,  because  the 
lives  of  these  poor  fellows  were,  in  some  sense,  in  my  hand, 
though  there  was  nothing  I  could  do  just  then  to  shield  or 
save  them.  Suddenly,  by  one  of  those  inexplicable  shift- 
ings  which  take  place  on  a  battle-field,  the  fighting  around 
me  almost  entirely  ceased,  and  whereas  the  moment  before 
the  whole  environment  seemed  to  be  crowded  with  the  enemy, 
there  were  now  few  or  none  of  them  on  the  spot,  and  as  the 
slaughter  and  the  firing  seemed  to  be  pretty  well  over,  I 
concluded  I  would  try  to  make  my  escape.  By  the  way,  I 
had  always  considered  it  likely  I  should  be  killed,  but  had 
never  anticipated  or  contemplated  capture. 

I  think  it  was  at  this  juncture  I  encountered  General  Cus- 
tis  Lee,  but  it  may  have  been  after  I  was  picked  up.  At  all 
events,  selecting  the  direction  which  seemed  to  be  most  free 
from  Federal  soldiers  and  to  offer  the  best  chance  of  es- 
cape, I  started  first  at  a  walk  and  then  broke  into  a  run; 
but  in  a  short  distance  ran  into  a  fresh  Federal  force,  and 
it  seemed  the  most  natural  and  easy  thing  in  the  world  to 
be  simply  arrested  and  taken  in.  My  recollection  is  that 
General  Lee  asked  to  be  carried  before  the  Federal  general 
commanding  on  that  part  of  the  line,  who,  at  his  request, 
gave  orders  putting  a  stop  to  the  firing,  there  being  no  or- 
ganized Confederate  force  on  the  field.  Thus  ended  my  ac- 
tive life  as  a  Confederate  soldier,  my  four  years'  service 
under  Marse  Robert,  and  I  was  not  sorry  to  end  it  thus,  in 
red-hot  battle,  and  to  be  spared  the  pain,  I  will  not  say 
humiliation,  of  Appomattox. 

I  must,  however,  mention  an  incident  to  which  I  have 
already  briefly  referred,  to  which  it  would  perhaps  have  been 
more  delicate  not  to  refer  at  all ;  but  the  reader  of  this  chap- 
ter can  scarcely  have  failed  to  perceive  that  one  of  the  most 
deeply  stirring  episodes  in  my  soldier  life  was  the  struggle 
I  made  to  lift  my  battalion  out  of  the  demoralization  in 
which  I  found  it;  to  make  my  men  trust  and  love  me,  and 
to  rouse  and  develop  in  them  the  true  conception  of  sol- 
dierly duty  and  devotion,  courage  and  endurance. 

Looking  back  upon  the  teeming  recollections  of  this  first 
and  last  retreat  and  this  final  battle  of  the  Army  of  North- 


THE    RETREAT  335 

ern  Virginia,  amid  all  the  overpowering  sadness  and  depres- 
sion of  defeat,  I  already  felt  the  sustaining  consciousness  of 
a  real  and  a  worthy  success;  but  it  is  impossible  to  express 
how  this  consciousness  was  deepened  and  heightened  when 
General  Ewell  sent  for  me  on  the  field,  after  we  were  all 
captured,  and  in  the  presence  of  half  a  dozen  generals  said 
that  he  had  summoned  me  to  say,  in  the  hearing  of  these  of- 
ficers, that  the  conduct  of  my  battalion  had  been  reported  to 
him,  and  that  he  desired  to  congratulate  me  and  them  upon 
the  record  they  had  made. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

FATAL    MISTAKE   OF    THE    CONFEDERATE    MILITARY 
AUTHORITIES 

The  Love  of  Glory  the  Inspiration  of  a  Soldier— Prompt  Promotion 
the  Life  of  an  Army — How  Napoleon  Applied  these  Principles — 
How  the  Controlling  Military  Authorities  of  the  Confederacy  Ig- 
nored Them — The  Material  of  the  Confederate  Armies  Superb, 
Their  Development  as  Soldiers  Neglected — Decoration  for  Gal- 
lantry, and  Promotion  on  the  Field  Unknown  in  the  Confederate 
Service — Lee  Himself  Without  Authority  to  Confer  Such  Pro- 
motion or  Distinction — Contrasted  Spirit  and  Practice  of  the 
Federal  Authorities  and  Armies — Grotesque  Absurdity  of  an 
Elective  Roll  of  Military  Honor. 

If  asked  what  I  regarded  as  the  most  fatal  mistake  of 
the  military  authorities  of  the  Confederacy,  I  should  un- 
hesitatingly answer — their  utter  and  amazing  failure  to  ap- 
preciate the  distinctive  inspiration  of  the  soldier,  the  inform- 
ing spirit  of  an  army.  That  spirit,  that  inspiration,  is  best 
expressed  in  the  one  word  "Promotion" — promotion  on  the 
spot,  "on  the  field ;"  instant,  responsive,  rapid  promotion. 

I  do  not  deny  the  existence  of  other  great  principles  and 
forces,  fundamental  and  formative,  in  the  life  of  the  sol- 
dier. On  the  contrary,  I  thoroughly  believe  in  and  appre- 
ciate them,  and  shall  take  pleasure  in  pointing  them  out  in 
the  last  chapter  of  this  work;  but  I  do  say  that  the  great 
element  of  progress  and  development  in  the  military  life  is 
the  desire  for  promotion,  or  at  least,  for  honorable  distinc- 
tion in  the  profession. 

I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  the  soldier  cannot  be  highly  de- 
veloped without  this  influence.  The  true  soldier  is  ever  look- 
ing for  opportunities  to  earn  promotion  or  distinction,  and 
the  true  general  ever  on  the  lookout  to  reward  men  who 
have  well  earned  the  one  or  the  other.     This  is  the  way — I 


FATAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  337 

am  willing  to  say,  the  only  way — to  make  a  soldier  or  an 
army  and  to  develop  both  to  the  highest  point  of  effective- 
ness. 

Probably  the  greatest  master  of  the  art  of  war,  in  an- 
cient or  modern  times,  was  the  first  Napoleon,  and  his  army 
— if  not  the  best  that  ever  marched  or  fought — certainly 
reached  a  height  of  resistless  power  that  alarmed  and  for  a 
time  dominated  Europe. 

It  is  well  known  how  largely  he  made  use  of  and  relied 
upon  the  element  we  are  now  considering,  and  which  we 
may  as  well  characterize  plainly  as  the  love  of  glory.  Count- 
less stories  are  told  illustrating  how  he  stimulated  this  natu- 
ral desire,  until  it  became  the  one  passionate  thirst  of  his  sol- 
diers. They  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  unrestrained  access 
to  him  at  all  times,  and  he  encouraged  them  to  address  him 
as  "Sire." 

In  one  of  his  greatest  battles  he  occupied  a  commanding 
height  from  which,  mounted  on  his  favorite  war  horse  and 
surrounded  by  a  magnificent  staff,  he  overlooked  the  drawn 
fight  that  hung  in  the  balance  on  the  plain  below ;  striving, 
through  the  battle  smoke,  to  analyze  the  field  and  to  deter- 
mine where  to  deliver  his  final  blow.  He  was  sitting  deep 
in  the  saddle  and  deeply  absorbed,  when  a  young  infantry 
soldier,  from  one  of  his  favorite  regiments,  pressed  through 
the  gorgeous  uniforms  and  prancing  steeds  of  the  staff  until, 
pale,  haggard,  bloody,  powder-begrimed,  he  reached  the 
Emperor's  side,  and  slapping  his  hand  smartly  upon  his 
thigh,  pointed  eagerly  to  a  particular  part  of  the  field  and 
said :  "Sire,  send  a  strong  column  there,  and  the  day  is 
ours !" 

Napoleon,  startled  from  his  reverie,  turned  and  looked 
upon  the  hatless,  breathless,  but  inspired  boy ;  then  breaking 
into  a  smile  of  appreciation  and  delight,  and  shaking  his 
finger  at  him,  burst  out :  "You  little  devil !  Who  told  you 
my  secret?    Go  back  to  your  regiment,  sir!" 

The  column  was  hurled  upon  the  weak  point  the  two  Napo- 
leons had  detected ;  the  victory  was  won,  and  the  victor  rode 
over  to  the  spot  where  the  fatal  thrust  had  been  made — and 
there,  just  where  the  head  of  the  French  column  had  pierced 


33§  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  hostile  line,  lay  that  peerless  youth  with  a  bullet  through 
his  brain,  but  the  light  of  battle  and  of  victory  glorifying  his 
countenance.  The  Emperor  turned  pale  and  reeled  in  his 
saddle,  but  quickly  recovering,  gazed  yearningly  at  the  dead 
hero,  and  with  bitter  emphasis  exclaimed,  "But  for  that  ac- 
cursed bullet,  there  lies  a  Marshal  of  France!" 

Another  illustration  occurs  to  me. 

On  a  rapid  march  through  an  unfamiliar  region  the  head 
of  his  column  halted  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  and  the  Em- 
peror, turning  to  the  ranking  engineer  officer  present,  de- 
manded to  know  its  width.  The  colonel  said  he  could  not 
tell ;  but  the  Emperor  instantly  replied : 

"But  I  must  know." 

"The  instruments  are  in  the  rear,  .sire.  I  cannot  tell 
without  the  instruments." 

"I  said  nothing  about  instruments;  I  asked  the  width  of 
this  river,  and  I  must  be  told." 

"Sire,  no  one  can  tell  without  the  instruments,"  said  the 
colonel. 

At  this  moment  a  young  lieutenant  of  engineers  stepped 
forward  and  saluted,  saying : 

"Sire,  I  think  I  can  tell  you  near  enough  for  all  practical 
purposes,  the  width  of  the  stream." 

"Tell  me  then,  sir !" 

The  lieutenant  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  water  and 
faced  the  other  shore.  Drawing  down  the  visor  of  his  cap 
until  it  just  cut  the  further  brink,  he  turned  his  head — taking 
care  to  keep  his  chin  at  the  same  level — until  the  cap  brim 
struck  the  bank  they  were  on.  Then,  again  addressing  the 
Emperor,  he  said : 

"Sire,  let  them  measure  the  distance  from  here  to  yonder 
barn  and  you  will  have  approximately  the  width  of  the 
river." 

Recognizing  the  resource  and  quickness  of  the  young  of- 
ficer, Napoleon  ordered  the  immediate  exchange  of  rank, 
making  the  lieutenant  a  colonel  and  the  colonel  a  lieutenant, 
on  the  spot. 

These  incidents  require  not  one  word,  by  way  either  of 
explanation  or  of  emphasis.     It  is  easy  to  see,  indeed  it 


FATAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  339 

would  seem  impossible  not  to  see,  how  such  instant,  re- 
sponsive, public  recognition  and  reward  of  merit  and  of 
service  must  inspire  and  develop  an  army. 

What  I  mean  to  assert  is  that  the  Confederate  military 
authorities — that  is,  the  governing  authorities — did  abso- 
lutely nothing,  in  this  general  direction;  that  we  did  not 
have,  as  General  Hooker  and  other  Federal  generals  testi- 
fied, material  originally  inferior  which  we  toned  up  by  ad- 
mirable training  and  discipline;  but,  on  the  contrary,  that 
the  material  of  our  armies,  the  bulk  of  our  rank  and  file, 
was  as  fine  as  the  world  ever  saw,  as  full  of  military  capacity 
and  aptitude  and  ambition,  and  that  we  steadily  toned  down 
this  superb  material  by  habitual  neglect  of  what  is  most  es- 
sential to  the  development  of  the  soldier. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia 
was  under  a  leadership  in  the  field  as  developing  and  up- 
lifting as  soldiers  ever  followed;  but,  with  this  exception, 
all  things  were  against  us.  The  controlling  military  authori- 
ties seem  to  have  relied  entirely  upon  the  patriotism  and 
character  of  the  individual  men,  and  did  nothing  to  make 
them  soldiers,  or  to  make  the  aggregation  of  them  an  army. 
Any  one  of  us  might  perform  prodigies  of  valor,  no  one 
ever  noticed  it;  or  exhibit  the  most  decided  and  even  bril- 
liant capacities  for  command  or  advancement,  the  advance- 
ment or  command  might  never  come. 

Take  the  case  of  Lieutenant  Falligant  at  Cold  Harbor, 
already  mentioned.  Our  battalion  report  set  forth  his  splen- 
did conduct  in  detail ;  General  Kershaw,  commanding  our 
division,  was  full  of  enthusiastic  admiration,  and  promised 
— and  I  have  no  doubt  fulfilled  his  promise — to  press  Falli- 
gant's  promotion ;  yet  no  notice  was  ever  taken  of  the  mat- 
ter. If  Falligant  had  done  in  Napoleon's  army  precisely 
what  he  did  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  I  have  no 
doubt  he  would  have  been  decorated  on  the  field  and  pro- 
moted to  be  full  colonel  of  artillery.  He  was  a  second  lieu- 
tenant when  he  rendered  his  superb  service  at  Cold  Harbor, 
'64.  If  I  mistake  not,  he  was  a  second  lieutenant  at  Ap- 
pomattox. 

I  think  it  was  at  Suffolk  that  a  private  soldier  in  one  of 
the  regiments  of  the  Confederate  force  investing  the  place 


34°  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

proposed,  and  alone  and  single-handed,  executed  a  brilliant 
and  daring  plan,  which  completely  rid  the  investing  force 
of  the  galling  fire  of  sharpshooters  concealed  in  tall,  dry 
grass  on  the  other  side  of  a  deep  stream. 

This  gallant  and  ingenious  fellow,  when  the  wind  was 
blowing  from  our  side  toward  the  enemy's,  procured  a 
long,  thick  plank,  with  which  he  entered  the  water,  lying 
breast  down  on  one  end  of  the  plank,  which  of  course  in- 
clined the  other  end  upward,  making  a  sort  of  protection 
for  him  and  especially  for  his  head.  Thus  equipped,  he 
paddled  across  the  stream  to  a  point  projecting  out  toward 
our  shore,  and  where  the  dry  grass  stood  high  above  water 
so  deep  that  the  sharpshooters  could  not  approach  near  it, 
and  there,  and  as  far  up  and  down  the  stream  as  he  could 
venture,  he  set  fire  to  the  grass.  The  flames  spread  rapidly, 
and  the  daring  incendiary,  taking  advantage  of  the  flight 
and  confusion  of  the  sharpshooters,  swam  safely  back  to 
our  side  of  the  stream. 

The  force  was  entirely  relieved  from  the  annoying  and  de- 
structive fire,  but  their  heroic  deliverer  was,  as  usual,  over- 
looked and  neglected. 

I  am  not  sure  that  the  Federal  military  authorities  fully 
recognized  the  principles  we  have  been  discussing,  but  they 
certainly  contrasted  very  strongly  with  ours  in  this  respect. 

After  the  battle  of  Chickamauga  Longstreet  sent  to  Rich- 
mond a  number  of  Federal  flags  captured  by  his  men  in 
the  engagement,  in  charge  of  a  party  consisting  of  several 
private  soldiers,  two  or  three  non-commissioned  officers,  and 
a  lieutenant  or  two,  who  had  specially  distinguished  them- 
selves in  the  capture  of  the  banners.  They  were  met  at  the 
depot  by  a  negro  with  a  one-horse  wagon,  into  which  the 
captured  banners  were  dumped,  and  in  which  they  were 
hauled  to  the  Capitol — and  the  men  received  transportation 
back  to  the  army.  Of  course  they  were  laughing-stocks 
to  their  fellows,  and  felt  the  deep  sting  of  the  lesson  that  gal- 
lant conduct  is  a  matter  beneath  notice. 

About  the  same  time  I  read  in  the  Northern  papers  an 
account  of  the  reception  accorded  a  similar  party  of  Fed- 
eral soldiers,  sent  upon  a  like  errand,  to  Washington.     As 


FATAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  34I 

I  remember,  they  were  received  by  the  full  Cabinet,  assem- 
bled in  the  War  Department.  The  line  officers  were  made 
majors  and  colonels,  the  non-commissioned  officers  received 
commissions,  and  the  privates  had  the  chevrons  of  sergeants 
and  corporals  sewed  upon  their  coatsleeves.  Of  course  they 
returned  to  their  army,  themselves  heroes  and  inspirers  of 
heroic  deeds  among  their  comrades. 

When  I  was  captured  and  passed  through  Grant's  army  I 
felt  as  if  I  had  entered  a  new  world.  The  non-commis- 
sioned officer  who  was  first  to  reach  me,  as  we  were  walking 
to  find  the  Federal  officer  commanding  on  that  part  of  the 
line,  rattled  off  to  me  his  military  history,  which  was  at  his 
tongue's  end. 

"Major,"  said  he,  "you've  helped  me  to  my  shoulder 
straps.  You  make  the  fifth  field  officer  I've  been  the  first 
man  to  reach ;  twice  my  hand  has  been  first  on  captured 
cannon.  You  see  that  man  yonder?  He's  a  private  soldier 
still,  because  he  hasn't  the  mind  or  education  to  make  an 
officer,  and  he  knows  it  and  don't  want  a  commission;  but 
look  at  his  medals  and  decorations.  There  ain't  a  general 
officer  in  the  corps  but  touches  his  hat  to  him." 

And  so  it  seemed  to  be  with  all  the  men  I  saw.  Each 
appeared  fully  aware  of  the  amount  of  good  conduct  laid 
up  to  his  credit,  and  yearning  for  opportunity  to  win  further 
distinction. 

There  was  nothing  approximating  this  in  our  service.  I 
can  truly  say, — and  thousands  of  my  old  comrades  can 
say  with  me, — I  never  saw  or  heard  of  a  medal  or  a  ribbon 
being  pinned  on  a  man's  jacket,  or  even  so  much  as  a  man's 
name  being  read  out  publicly  in  orders  for  gallantry  in  bat- 
tle. With  some  of  us,  at  least,  it  would  have  gone  far  to 
atone  for  having  nothing  put  inside  our  stomachs  if  we  had 
had  a  red  ribbon  or  some  such  thing  pinned  outside  our 
jackets.  Not  only  did  I  never  see  or  hear  of  a  promotion  on 
the  field,  but  I  do  not  believe  such  a  thing  ever  occurred  in 
any  army  of  the  Confederacy,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end 
of  the  war.  Indeed,  I  am  confident  it  never  did ;  for,  in- 
credible as  it  may  appear,  even  Lee  himself  did  not  have  the 
power  to  make  such  a  promotion.  On  page  147  of  his  book. 
Colonel  Taylor,  the  Adjutant-General  of  his  army,  says : 


342  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

General  Lee  should  have  been  supreme  in  all  matters  touching  the 
movements  and  discipline  of  his  Army;  whereas,  under  the  law  and  the 
regulations  of  the  Department  of  War  made  in  conformity  thereto, 
he  had  not  even  the  power  to  confer  promotion  on  the  field  of  battle. 

I  have  myself  heard  other  prominent  Confederate  leaders 
complain  of  their  utter  powerlessness  in  this  regard,  and  it 
is  generally  understood  that  Jackson  more  than  once  threat- 
ened to  resign  if  he  should  be  further  interfered  with  in 
"putting  down  one  and  setting  up  another"  of  the  officers 
and  men  of  his  command. 

In  short,  the  error  and  defect  upon  which  I  am  comment- 
ing was  too  glaring  to  be  denied,  but  I  have  heard  it  apolo- 
gized for  upon  the  ground  that  deeds  of  gallantry  were  so 
common  in  the  Confederate  armies  and  especially  in  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  that  they  could  not  with  pro- 
priety be  recognized  or  rewarded  as  "distinguished."  This 
is  worse  than  absurd.  No  matter  how  high  the  average, 
some  men  and  some  deeds  necessarily  rose  above  it.  Be- 
sides, men  were  sometimes  promoted  for  gallantry  in  our 
service,  and  even  in  Lee's  glorious  army;  but  the  point  is, 
the  promotion  lagged  and  followed  afar  off — so  far  that, 
before  the  tardy  recognition  came,  men  had  forgotten  the 
heroic  deeds  that  forced  it,  and  the  effect  was  almost,  if  not 
altogether,  lost. 

May  I  be  pardoned  for  referring  to  my  personal  expe- 
rience in  this  regard,  amongst  the  bitterest  of  my  life.  I 
was  recommended  for  promotion  for  conduct  at  "The  Sa- 
lient," that  is,  "The  Bloody  Angle,"  of  Spottsylvania,  of  the 
12th  of  May,  '64;  and  the  promotion  came,  but  more  than 
six  months  later,  and  then  the  commission  gave  me  rank,  not 
from  the  date  of  the  engagement,  but  from  the  date  of  its 
issue;  nor  was  there  upon  its  face  the  slightest  reference  to 
or  connection  with  the  glorious  12th  of  May.  I  do  not  think 
I  was  ever  so  disappointed  and  indignant.  I  never  saw  the 
commission  again ;  my  recollection  is  that  I  tore  it  to  tatters. 
I  presume  it  is,  in  part  at  least,  to  the  delay  in  issuing  this 
commission  that  I  am  indebted  for  the  additional  wrong* 
that  my  name  is  not  mentioned  in  the  only  published  list,  so 
far  as  I  know,  of  the  field  officers  of  the  Confederate  armies. 


FATAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  343 

If  anything  were  needed  to  accentuate  the  dismal  failure 
of  the  military  authorities  of  the  Confederacy,  in  the  general 
field  of  the  inspiration  and  development  of  the  soldier,  it 
would  be  abundantly  supplied  by  the  remarkable  record  of 
the  only  attempt  they  ever  made,  so  far  as  I  am  informed, 
in  that  direction.  This  attempt  was  embodied  in  an  Act  of 
the  Congress  of  the  Confederate  States,  approved  October 
J  3,  1862,  and  several  orders  of  the  Adjutant  and  Inspector- 
General's  office:  No.  93,  of  November  22,  1862;  No.  31,  of 
October  3,  1863,  and  No.  64,  of  August  10,  1864 — all  to  be 
found  in  War  Records,  Series  I.,  Vol.  xxx.,  Part  2,  Re- 
ports, pages  532  and  533. 

The  title  of  the  Act  is  promising,  and  is  as  follows : 
"An  Act  to  authorize  the  grant  of  medals  and  badges  of  dis- 
tinction, as  a  reward  for  courage  and  good  conduct  on  the 
field  of  battle;"  but  the  outline  of  the  scheme  is  grievously 
disappointing. 

"The  President,"  and  not  the  general  commanding  in  the 
field,  was  authorized  to  confer  the  medals  and  badges;  so 
that,  even  without  the  distinct  reference  in  the  orders  to 
"the  regular  channels,"  it  is  obvious  that,  in  practical  opera- 
tion, the  plan  would  fail  utterly  of  that  rapid,  responsive 
recognition  and  reward  wherein  consist  the  life  and  power 
of  decoration  and  promotion  "on  the  field." 

Again,  the  Act  provided  for  conferring  "a  badge  of  dis- 
tinction upon  one  private  or  non-commissioned  officer  of 
each  company,  after  every  signal  victory  it  shall  have  as- 
sisted to  achieve."  Thus,  by  reason  of  the  number  to  be 
decorated,  the  decoration  would,  of  necessity,  cease  to  be  a 
distinction,  and  the  scheme  must,  as  it  did,  break  down  of 
its  own  weight,  to  say  nothing  of  its  other  inherent  defects. 

Perhaps  the  most  glaring  of  these  was  the  mode  of  se- 
lecting the  men  who  were  to  be  recipients  of  the  badges.  It 
is  expressly  provided  in  the  Act  that :  "The  non-commis- 
sioned officers  and  privates  of  the  company  who  may  be  pres- 
ent on  the  first  dress-parade  thereafter  (that  is,  'after  every 
signal  victory')  may  choose,  by  a  majority  of  their  votes, 
the  soldier  best  entitled  to  receive  such  distinction."  Could 
there  be  devised  a  more  shocking  travesty  upon  the  essen- 


344  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

tial  law  and  character  of  military  promotion  or  reward  and 
the  appropriate  mode  of  conferring  it  ?  Such  promotion  or 
recognition  means,  of  course,  and  exclusively,  recognition 
or  promotion  from  above;  by  the  determination,  that  is,  of 
one's  superior  or  commanding  officer.  To  substitute  in 
place  of  this  the  ballot  of  one's  fellows  is  a  monstrous  perver- 
sion— so  monstrous  as  to  be  incredible  but  for  the  absolute 
proofs  we  have  submitted.  It  was  bad  enough  to  provide 
for  election  to  military  office;  but  to  elect  the  bravest  man 
in  the  command  is  an  incongruity  still  more  extreme. 

And  yet  there  is  one  feature  of  this  remarkable  statute 
even  more  exaggerated  and  grotesque.  The  entire  scheme 
had  been  delayed  a  year  or  more  because  of  the  difficulty  or 
expense  of  procuring  the  medals  and  badges,  and  an  elective 
"Roll  of  Honor"  was  the  ingenious  substituted  device  of 
someone  to  bridge  over  the  difficulty.  In  the  order  of 
August  10,  '64,  it  was  provided  that:  "Should  more  than 
one  soldier  hereafter  be  selected  by  a  company  as  equal  in 
merit,  the  name  to  be  entered  upon  the  roll  will  be  deter- 
mined by  lot."  The  imagination  staggers  at  the  task  of 
picturing  the  scene  where  two  elected  heroes  proceeded  to 
draw  straws  to  determine  which  of  the  twain  should  be  en- 
rolled among  the  immortals. 

Was  there  ever  enacted  by  a  legislative  body,  or  carried 
into  effect  by  an  executive  office,  a  more  utterly  impotent 
scheme  or  as  grim  a  farce?  It  seems  almost  beyond  belief, 
but  there  it  is,  in  black  and  white;  and  it  was  actually  put 
into  operation  in  some  of  our  armies.  It  may  have  been  to 
some  extent  operative  in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia ; 
but  I  have  yet  to  meet  a  soldier  of  that  army  who  claimed 
the  honor  of  having  had  his  name  entered  upon  this  Elective 
Roll  of  Honor,  this  Roll  of  Elected  Heroes,  or  who  had 
even  so  much  as  heard  of  such  a  roll,  although  it  was  ex- 
pressly ordered  that  the  roll  be  read  "at  the  head  of  every 
regiment  in  the  service  of  the  Confederate  States." 

I  say  again,  the  invention  of  such  a  scheme  only  accentu- 
ates the  pitiful  failure  of  the  Confederate  military  authori- 
ties to  put  into  operation  the  noble,  healthful,  inspiring  law 
and  practice  of  genuine  military  recognition  and  promotion 


FATAL  MISTAKE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  345 

on  the  Held.  And  I  say  further,  that  I  believe  this  failure 
had  as  much  to  do  with  the  failure  of  our  cause  as  any  other 
— yes,  even  more,  than  any  and  all  other  forces  and  influ- 
ences, save  and  except,  perhaps,  the  overwhelming  material 
force  arrayed  against  us. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

POTPOURRI 

Startling  Figures  as  to  the  Numbers  and  Losses  of  the  Federal  Armies 
During  the  War — Demoralizing  Influence  of  Earth-works — Attri- 
tion and  Starvation — Lack  of  Sleep  vs.  Lack  of  Food — Night  Blind- 
ness in  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia — Desertions  from  the  Con- 
federate Armies — Prison  Life — DeForest  Medal— Gen.  Lee's  Hat. 

Some  years  ago,  during  the  discussion  of  the  pension 
legislation  of  Congress,  the  following  statements,  substan- 
tially, were  published  at  Washington  in  The  National  Tri- 
bune of  May  1 6,  1889.  We  do  not  vouch  for  their  accu- 
racy, but  there  is  truth  enough  in  the  figures  to  make  them 
valuable,  and  power  enough  to  startle  the  thoughtful  reader. 

The  article  asserts  that  the  Federal  force  invading  the 
South  from  '61  to  '65  was  fully  twice  as  large  as  was  ever 
put  afield  by  any  other  modern  nation,  and  that  it  contested 
more  battles,  did  more  fighting,  and  lost  more  in  killed  and 
wounded  than  all  the  armies  of  modern  Europe  in  the  last 
three-quarters  of  a  century,  that  is,  since  the  close  of  the 
Napoleonic  wars  in  181 5. 

It  states  that  2,320,272  men  served  an  average  of  three 
years  during  our  war ;  that  no  other  war  of  the  century  has 
lasted  so  long  or  been  filled  with  such  continuous  and  san- 
guinary fighting;  that  2,261  battles  and  skirmishes  were 
fought,  many  of  them  more  destructive  of  human  life  than 
any  other  battles  in  modern  history ;  that  over  400,000  men 
lost  their  lives  in  the  struggle — that  is,  double  the  number 
of  the  entire  army  of  Great  Britain,  143,000  more  than  that 
of  Austro-Hungary ;  more  than  Napoleon  arrayed  against 
the  coalition  of  England,    Russia,    Prussia,    Sweden    and 


potpourri  347 

Spain ;  and  twice  as  many  as  he  had  when  he  began  his  Wa- 
terloo campaign.     The  article  closes  with  these  words : 

"Our  war  lasted  nearly  seven  times  as  long  as  the  Franco- 
Prussian  struggle,  and  we  lost  over  six  times  as  many  killed 
on  the  field  of  battle  as  the  Germans  lost  in  overrunning  the 
whole  of  France." 

As  I  understand,  the  above  figures '  represent  the  number 
and  losses  of  the  Federal  armies  alone.  If  so,  what  a  story 
they  tell  of  the  fighting  power  of  the  little  Confederacy,  cut 
off  from  the  world  in  its  death  grapple,  opposing  the  great 
hosts  of  the  Union  with  less  than  one-third  their  numbers, 
and  meeting,  among  the  overwhelming  myriads  of  its  foes, 
more  imported  foreigners  than  the  entire  number  of  the  na- 
tive soldiers  of  the  South. 

In  my  account  of  the  campaign  of  '64,  especially  of 
Spottsylvania  and  Cold  Harbor,  in  noting  our  first  real  ex- 
perience of  fighting  "in  the  trenches"  and  behind  the 
"works,"  I  failed  to  mention  its  tendency  to  demoralize 
the  men. 

The  protection  of  a  little  pile  of  earth  being  in  front  of  a 
man  and  between  him  and  his  enemy,  his  natural  tendency 
is  to  stay  behind  it,  not  only  as  to  part,  but  as  to  the  whole 
of  his  person.  I  have  more  than  once  seen  men  behind  such 
a  line  fire- their  muskets  without  so  much  as  raising  their 
heads  above  the  curtain  of  earth  in  front  of  them;  fire,  in- 
deed, at  such  an  inclination  of  their  gun-barrels  upward  as 
to  prevent  the  possibility  of  hitting  an  enemy  unless  that 
enemy  were  suspended  in  the  sky  or  concealed  in  the  tree 
tops. 

So  greatly  did  this  desire  to  fight  behind  protection  in- 
crease that  I  have  seen  men  begin  digging  every  time  the 
column  halted,  until  their  commanding  officers  declared  that 
any  man  caught  intrenching  himself  without  orders  should 
be  punished  severely.  It  is  fair  to  say  that,  after  a  while, 
the  better  men  of  the  army,  at  least,  learned  to  use  without 
abusing  the  vantage  ground  of  earth-works. 

In  commenting  upon  Grant's  theory  and  plan  of  attrition, 
I  should  have  added  that  one  feature  of  it  was  to  turn  loose 
upon  our  armies  and  our  homes  the  twin  giant  of  starvation. 


348  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

Especially  was  this  the  case  after  Sherman  started  through 
Georgia  and  our  communications  began  to  be  cut  by  Fed- 
eral raiding  parties  in  all  directions.  Sometime  ago,  I  do 
not  remember  just  how  long,  Mr.  George  Cary  Eggleston, 
in  a  graphic  paper  upon  the  campaign  of  '64,  wrote  in  a 
very  feeling  and  original  way  of  the  pains  and  pangs  of 
hunger,  and  how  deeply  they  depressed  and  deteriorated  his 
entire  being.  I  take  no  issue  with  him  as  to  this  statement, 
and  yet,  to  me,  even  greater  suffering  and  deterioration 
came  from  lack  of  sleep.  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  ever 
suffered  more,  physically  and  mentally,  than  from  intense 
desire  and  demand  of  my  whole  being  for  deep,  unbroken 
sleep,  combined  with  inability  to  get  more  than  a  snatch  at  a 
time,  which  was  almost  worse  than  none  at  all.  Such  was 
frequently  our  experience,  especially  upon  night  marches 
and  during  long-continued  battle. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  my  unusual  muscular  strength 
saved  me  from  that  general  giving  way  which,  in  the  case 
of  most  men,  follows  quickly  upon  lack  of  sufficient  food; 
but  on  the  other  hand,  I  seemed  to  be  peculiarly  susceptible 
to  the  suffering,  even  torture  and  almost  madness,  which 
accompanies  or  follows  lack  of  sleep.  I  believe  it  was  Na- 
poleon who  defined  a  soldier  to  be  a  man  who  could  eat  and 
sleep  in  one  day  for  three.  My  army  experience  inclines  me 
to  say  that  a  better  definition  could  scarcely  be  framed,  at 
least  on  the  purely  physical  side. 

Perhaps  the  most  peculiar  and  striking  fact  or  feature  of 
the  physical  condition  of  General  Lee's  army  during  the  lat- 
ter half  of  the  war  was  night  blindness — the  men  affected 
being  unable  to  see  after  sunset,  or  a  little  later. 

I  do  not  know  what  proportion  of  the  men  were  so  af- 
fected, but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  thousands  were.  Many  of 
them  were  as  good  and  true  men  as  any  in  the  service; 
indeed,  I  have  seen  men  led  by  the  hand  all  night  in  order  to 
go  into  battle  with  the  command  in  the  morning. 

The  doctors  tell  us  that  these  symptoms  were  to  be  ac- 
counted for  as  among  the  expressions  of  an  anaemic  and 
scorbutic  condition,  which  itself  resulted  from  lack  of  proper 
and  sufficient  nutrition.     It  would  be  interesting  to  know 


potpourri  349 

to  what  extent,  if  at  all,  the  Federal  armies  weer  so  affected. 
There  may  have  been  investigations  and  reports  embodying 
this  and  other  points  of  interest  with  regard  to  the  matter, 
but,  if  so,  I  have  never  seen  them.  Indeed,  my  purpose  is 
merely  to  record  the  fact,  which  I  believe  to  be  for  the  most 
part  unknown  even  to  the  intelligent  public  of  this  gen- 
eration. 

There  is  one  feature  of  our  Confederate  struggle,  to  which 
I  have  already  made  two  or  three  indirect  allusions,  as  to 
which  there  has  been  such  a  strange  popular  misapprehen- 
sion that  I  feel  as  if  there  rested  upon  the  men  who  thor- 
oughly understand  the  situation  a  solemn  obligation  to 
bring  out  strongly  and  clearly  the  sound  and  true  view  of 
the  matter.  I  refer  to  an  impression,  quite  common,  that 
the  desertions  from  the  Confederate  armies,  especially  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  war,  indicated  a  general  lack  of  devotion  to 
the  cause  on  the  part  of  the  men  in  the  ranks. 

On  the  contrary,  it  is  my  deliberate  conviction  that  South- 
ern soldiers  who  remained  faithful  under  the  unspeakable 
pressure  of  letters  and  messages  revealing  suffering,  starva- 
tion, and  despair  at  home,  displayed  more  than  human 
heroism. 

The  men  who  felt  this  strain  most  were  husbands  of  young- 
wives  and  fathers  of  young  children,  whom  they  had  sup- 
ported by  their  labor,  manual  or  mental.  As  the  lines  of 
communication  in  the  Confederacy  were  more  and  more 
broken  and  destroyed,  and  the  ability,  both  of  county  and 
public  authorities  and  of  neighbors,  to  aid  them  became 
less  and  less — the  situation  of  such  families  became  more  and 
more  desperate,  and  their  appeals  more  and  more  piteous  to 
their  only  earthly  helpers  who  were  far  away,  filling  their 
places  in  "the  thin  gray  line."  Meanwhile  the  enemy  sent 
into  our  camps,  often  bv  our  own  pickets,  circulars  offering 
our  men  indefinite  parole,  with  free  transportation  to  their 
homes. 

I  am  not  condemning  the  Federal  Government  or  military 
authorities  for  making  these  offers  or  putting  out  these  cir- 
culars; but  if  there  was  ever  such  a  thing  as  a  conflict  of 
duties,  that  conflict  was  presented  to  the  private  soldiers  of 


35°  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

the  Confederate  army  who  belonged  to  the  class  just  men- 
tioned, and  who  received,  perhaps  simultaneously,  one  of 
these  home  letters  and  one  of  these  Federal  circulars;  and 
if  ever  the  strain  of  such  a  conflict  was  great  enough  to 
unsettle  a  man's  reason  and  to  break  a  man's  heart  strings, 
these  men  were  subjected  to  that  strain. 

Ask  any  Confederate  officer  who  commanded  troops  dur- 
ing the  latter  part  of  the  war  and  who  was  loved  and  trusted 
by  his  men.  He  will  tell  you  of  letters  which  it  would  have 
seared  your  very  eyeballs  to  read,  but  that  they  could  not 
be  read  without  tears — letters  in  which  a  wife  and  mother, 
crazed  by  her  starving  children's  cries  for  bread,  required  a 
husband  and  father  to  choose  between  his  God-imposed  obli- 
gations to  her  and  to  them  and  his  allegiance  to  his  country, 
his  duty  as  a  soldier;  declaring  that  if  the  stronger  party 
prove  recreant  to  the  marriage  vow,  the  weaker  will  no 
longer  be  bound  by  it ;  that  if  he  come  not  at  once,  he  need 
never  come ;  that  she  will  never  see  him  again  nor  recognize 
him  as  her  husband  or  the  father  of  her  children. 

In  order  that  it  may  be  seen  that  I  am  not  drawing  an  im- 
aginary or  exaggerated  picture,  I  quote  from  page  145  of 
Colonel  Taylor's  "Four  Years  with  General  Lee" — a  pas- 
sage which,  by  the  way,  I  had  not  read  until  after  I  had 
penned  the  foregoing  upon  this  topic.    Says  Colonel  Taylor : 

A  few  words  in  regard  to  this  desertion.  The  condition  of  affairs 
throughout  the  South  at  that  period  was  thoroughly  deplorable.  Hun- 
dreds of  letters  addressed  to  soldiers  were  intercepted  and  sent  to  the 
Army  Headquarters,  in  which  mothers,  wives  and  sisters  told  of  their 
inability  to  respond  to  the  appeals  of  hungry  children  for  bread,  or  to 
provide  proper  care  and  remedies  for  the  sick;  and  in  the  name  of  all 
that  was  true,  appealed  to  the  men  to  come  home  and  rescue  them  from 
the  ills  which  they  suffered  and  the  starvation  which  threatened  them. 
Surely  never  was  devotion  to  one's  country  and  to  one's  duty  more  sorely 
tested  than  was  the  case  with  the  soldiers  of  Lee's  army  during  the  last 
year  of  the  war. 

Many  a  noble  officer,  reading  such  a  letter  with  a  poor  fel- 
low of  his  command  at  nightfall,  has  realized  how  entirely 
inadequate  was  the  best  sympathy,  advice,  and  comfort  he 


POTPOURRI  351 

could  give;  and  when,  at  next  morning's  roll-call  that  man 
failed  to  answer  to  his  name,  has  felt  far  more  of  pity  than 
of  condemnation.  Soldiers  would  not  prevent  the  departure 
of  a  comrade  who  was  known  to  have  received  such  a  letter. 
Officers  of  courts-martial,  compelled  by  sense  of  duty  to 
order  the  execution  as  a  deserter  of  a  man  absent  without 
leave  under  such  circumstances,  have  confessed  to  me  that 
they  shuddered,  as  if  accessories  before  the  fact  to  murder. 

Some  years  ago,  cowering  under  a  great  rock  on  the  edge 
of  the  Aletsch  glacier,  in  an  Alpine  thunder-storm,  with 
Prof.  (Sir  John)  Tyndall,  Lady  Tyndall,  and  my  brother- 
in-law,  Professor  Newton,  of  Yale  University,  I  related  a 
story  which  was  told  me  by  Dr.  Hunter  McGuire  and  other 
eye-witnesses,  of  Jackson's  agonized  suffering,  yet  refusal 
to  interfere  with  a  death  sentence  imposed  by  a  court-mar- 
tial, under  circumstances  such  as  I  have  described.  Lady 
Tyndall  shuddered  and  averted  her  face;  but  her  husband, 
perceiving  that  she  did  so,  said  with  emphasis : 

"My  dear,  awful  as  it  was,  Jackson  was  right;"  then, 
turning  to  me,  he  added,  "Mr.  Stiles,  God  never  made  a 
greater  or  a  righter  human  soul  than  Stonewall  Jackson. 
No,  sir,  I  do  not  believe  it  within  the  power — even  of  the 
Lord  God  Almighty — to  make  one !" 

In  this  general  connection  I  cannot  but  refer  with  pride  to 
the  unshaken  condition  and  magnificent  record  of  my  old 
battery,  even  on  that  fearful  retreat  from  Richmond,  and 
up  to  and  at  the  very  end.  The  evening  before  Sailor's 
Creek  we  passed  them  on  the  road  near  Amelia  Court 
House,  and  I  was  delighted  to  find  their  condition  about  as 
good  as  I  ever  saw  it,  and  their  mettle  quite  as  high.  They 
were  better  supplied  than  we,  and,  for  the  last  time,  I  plun- 
dered Billy's  haversack  for  a  morsel  of  food. 

As  I  have  always  understood,  and  believe  to  be  true, 
they  went  down  and  passed  into  history,  with  the  immortal 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  with  all  their  men,  save  two, 
present  for  duty,  or  honorably  accounted  for. 

There  are  several  minor  and  personal  matters,  more  or 
less  connected  with  my  army  experience,  which  I  have  been 
specially  requested  to  touch  upon.    One  of  these  is  my  prison 


35 2  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

life.  It  may  be  that  I  shall  deem  this  worthy  of  more  ex- 
tended notice  hereafter,  so  that  for  the  present  I  shall  confine 
myself  to  one  or  two  points. 

When  it  was  proposed  to  release  the  field  officers  at  John- 
son's Island,  in  the  summer  of  1865,  I  was  one  of  those 
called  upon  by  the  prison  authorities  to  aid  in  the  preparation 
of  the  numerous  requisite  "papers,"  and  when,  long  after 
midnight,  I  handed  in  my  batch,  Major  Lee,  the  courteous 
and  kindly  commandant  of  the  post,  when  he  had  looked  them 
over,  said  they  were  all  right,  except  that  I  had  been  guilty 
of  just  such  an  omission  as  he  would  undertake  to  say  had 
never  before  occurred,  in  like  circumstances — that  is,  I 
had  forgotten  to  prepare  any  paper  for  my  own  release. 

I  assured  him  that  he  was  mistaken,  that  I  certainly  had 
not  overlooked  my  own  case,  and  he  hastily  ran  through 
his  pile  of  papers  again. 

"Yes,  Major,"  said  he,  "I  am  right.  There  are  no  papers 
here  for  you." 

"True,"  said  I,  "but  you  did  not  say  there  were  no  papers 
for  me,  but  that  I  had  forgotten  to  prepare  any.  In  this 
you  are  in  error.  I  did  not  forget — I  never  proposed  to 
write  any  paper  for  myself — you  see,  I  am  not  going  to 
leave  just  yet.  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  you  and  I 
propose  to  stay  with  you  a  while  longer." 

The  commandant  at  first  seemed  to  regard  the  matter  as  a 
joke;  but  when  he  found  I  really  did  not  propose  to  submit 
any  papers  for  my  own  release,  he  began  to  fear  I  had  lost 
my  mental  balance,  and  sent  me  to  my  quarters,  sending  the 
post-surgeon  after  me,  to  see  whether  I  was  in  normal  con- 
dition. I  assured  the  doctor,  and  he  saw  for  himself,  that  I 
was  perfectly  sound  in  mind  and  body,  and  he  so  reported. 

The  next  day,  as  soon  as  the  prisoners  had  left,  Major 
Lee  sent  for  me,  and  I  explained  to  him  that  the  oath  de- 
manded of  us  entered  into  the  domain  of  my  convictions  and 
feelings,  requiring  me  to  swear  in  substance  that  I  aban- 
doned the  "heresy  of  secession,"  and  regarded  and  would 
continue  to  regard  the  United  States  with  patriotic  devotion. 
I  contended  that  the  Government  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
exercise  of  my  intellect  or  affections,  and  that  I  could  not 


potpourri  353 

myself  voluntarily  control  their  operations  or  conclusions ; 
that  I  would  never  take  an  oath  of  the  character  of  that  de- 
manded, and  did  not  feel  disposed  to  take  any  oath  whatever 
under  duress  and  imprisonment;  that,  in  fact,  I  questioned 
whether  an  oath  exacted  under  such  circumstances  was  le- 
gally valid ;  but  that  I  preferred  not  to  subject  myself  to  the 
moral  strain  of  toning  down  and  whittling  away  the  obli- 
gation of  any  oath  I  might  take;  that,  indeed,  as  the  war 
was,  or  seemed  to  be,  practically  over,  with  no  organized 
Confederate  force  in  the  field,  I  ought  to  be  released  upon 
indefinite  parole  not  to  take  up  arms  against  the  United 
States;  but  that  I  was  willing  to  accept  a  brief  parole,  say 
of  thirty  days,  conditioned  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  to 
take  the  simple  oath  of  allegiance  or  leave  the  country ;  that 
as  at  present  advised  and  inclined,  I  would  join  any  nation, 
or  government,  or  people  under  Heaven — even  the  Hotten- 
tots— to  fight  against  the  United  States,  if  there  was  a  fair 
chance  of  success;  but  if  allowed  to  go  out  and  mingle 
freely  with  the  people  of  the  South,  and  especially  of  Vir- 
ginia, for  a  short  time,  and  to  see  for  myself  that  they  had, 
as  he  assured  me,  given  up  all  purpose  and  hope  of  inde- 
pendence, I  might  then  be  able  to  take  the  simple  oath  of  al- 
legiance intelligently  and  honestly,  and  in  case  I  did  so 
might  well  prove  a  better,  that  is,  a  more  reliable,  citizen 
than  some  who  had  raised  no  such  question  of  conscience. 

Major  Lee  was  very  kind  and  considerate.  He  attempted 
at  first  to  reason  me  out  of  my  position,  and  failing  in  that 
said  he  would  incorporate  the  substance  of  what  I  had  said 
in  his  report  to  the  Government,  and  ask  my  release  on  pa- 
role; which  he  did,  but  the  application  was  refused.  He 
then  suggested  that  perhaps  I  could  formulate  my  own  po- 
sition more  clearly  and  strongly  than  he  had  done,  and  said 
he  would  forward  any  paper  of  that  character  I  might  pre- 
pare, and  he  furnished  me  with  writing  materials  for  the 
purpose.  Of  course,  with  my  comrades  all  departed,  there 
was  a  great  calm,  a  melancholy  stagnation  in  "the  prison 
pen,"  and  I  revelled  for  days,  almost  weeks,  in  applying  my 
little  knowledge  of  law  and  my  large  sympathy  with  "gen- 
eral principles"  to  the  preparation  of  paper  after  paper  on 
the  laws  of  war,  as  related  to  my  case,  and  bearing  on  my 


354  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

application  to  be  released  on  parole.  Suffice  it  to  say  these 
papers  were  all  endorsed  by  Major  Lee,  "Respectfully  for- 
warded approved" — and  all  backed  by  the  Commissary-Gen- 
eral of  Prisoners,  "Respectfully  returned  disapproved." 

At  last,  however,  Mrs.  A.  D.  Egerton,  a  noble  lady  of 
Baltimore,  and  my  sister, — having  managed  in  some  way  to 
get  hold  of  one  of  these  papers,  weeks  after  I  had  been  re- 
moved from  Johnson's  Island  and  incarcerated  in  a  stone 
casemate  in  Fort  Lafayette,  in  New  York  Harbor, — secured 
an  interview  with  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  Mr.  Stanton 
endorsed  the  paper  with  his  own  hand. 

"Let  this  young  officer  have  any  parole  he  asks,  condi- 
tioned, at  its  expiration,  to  take  the  oath  or  go  back  to 
prison." 

The  big-brained,  terrible  man  cut  right  through  to  my 
half-formed  purpose  of  going  to  Maximilian — and  he  did 
not  propose  to  leave  any  such  loop-hole  in  the  net  in  which 
the  Government  at  the  time  held  me  fast.  It  is  a  pleasure  to 
record  this  incident,  to  the  honor  of  a  man  who  gave  few 
opportunities  to  the  people  of  the  South  for  kindly  words  or 
feelings. 

The  iron  door  of  my  cell  opened  to  these  dear  ladies, 
armed  with  this  "ukase  of  the  Czar,"  and  I  walked  forth  a 
free  man  once  more — that  is,  in  a  modified  sense.  This  was, 
I  think,  in  October,  '65.  At  the  expiration  of  my  brief  pa- 
role, being  satisfied  that  the  fond  dream  of  Confederate  in- 
dependence was  ended  forever,  I  took  the  simple  oath  of  al- 
legiance to  the  United  States,  sadly  turned  my  back  upon 
the  only  great  thing  in  my  life,  and  dropped  into  the  un- 
distinguishable  mass  of  "The  People." 

Another  matter  of  a  personal  nature,  which  I  mention  by 
special  request,  is  the  post-collegiate  history  of  the  DeForest 
gold  medal,  which  I  had  the  honor  to  take  in  the  class  of  '59, 
at  Old  Yale,  and  the  formative  influence  it  exercised  upon  my 
after  life. 

In  1859,  when  I  took  the  medal,  the  die  for  it  had  not 
been  cast,  and  the  trustees  or  managers  of  the  fund  were 
advised  that  they  were  legally  compellable  to  melt  up  ten 
gold  eagles,  or,  at  least,  a  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  gold, 
in  the  general  form  of  a  medal,  and  to  have  engraved  upon 


POTPOURRI  355 

it  the  legend  prescribed  in  the  legal  instrument  of  donation. 
My  recollection  is  the  medal  was  a  long  time  reaching  me, 
and  when  it  came  it  was  in  this  "questionable  shape."  I 
carried  the  lump  of  gold  in  my  pants  pocket  for  months, 
and  as  the  mighty  conflict  drew  on  and  I  grew  more  moody 
and  unhappy,  I  walked  much  alone,  and  used  occasionally 
to  shy  my  golden  disc  at  cats  and  other  objects,  until  the 
inscription  became  battered  and  defaced  beyond  recognition. 

It  was  probably  after  my  return  from  New  York  in  the 
spring  of  '61  that  one  of  my  uncles,  a  cotton  manufacturer 
from  Northern  Georgia,  was  sitting  one  evening  with  the 
family  in  our  parlor  in  New  Haven  and  I  was  filliping  the 
great  round  piece  of  yellow  metal  up  to  the  ceiling,  when  he 
asked  what  it  was,  and  I  answered : 

"A  lump  of  gold." 

"Nonsense,  Bob,"  said  Uncle  B.    "What  is  it,  really?" 

"It  is  really  a  piece  of  gold,  Uncle.  If  you  doubt  it,  ex- 
amine it  and  see  for  yourself!" — tossing  it  to  him. 

"Why,  I  really  believe  it  is  gold.  How  did  you  come  by 
it,  boy,  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?" 

When  I  explained,  my  uncle  said : 

"Well,  it  is  certainly  good  for  nothing  now  as  a  medal. 
We  don't  know  what  is  coming  upon  us ;  you'd  better  let  me 
take  it  South  and  put  it  in  cotton  for  you." 

"All  right,"  I  replied ;  "only  let  me  first  have  a  piece 
clipped  off  to  make  a  breast-pin  for  mother;"  which  was 
done  next  morning.  The  little  pin  was  made,  my  mother 
wore  it  for  years,  my  sister  has  it  now  and  my  little  daughter 
is  to  have  it.  "Uncle  B."  took  the  three-quarter  moon  of 
gold  with  him,  and  I  cannot  recall  ever  thinking  of  it  again 
until  the  fall  of  1865,  just  after  I  was  released  from  prison. 

I  was  on  the  border  line  of  Albemarle  and  Orange  Coun- 
ties, Virginia,  helping  my  brother,  Randy,  to  harvest  a  little 
corn  crop,  which  he  had  cultivated  on  shares,  after  getting 
out  of  prison  in  the  spring.  It  was  toward  the  gloaming 
and  I  was  seated  on  a  pile  of  corn,  which  we  were  anxious 
to  finish  that  night.  A  solitary  horseman  came  riding  across 
the  open  country  from  the  direction  of  the  railroad,  evi- 
dently an  ex-Confederate  cavalryman,  and  as  we  all,  in  those 


356  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

days,  seemed  to  have  a  sort  of  intuitive  knowledge  of  each 
other's  whereabouts,  I  was  not  surprised  when  he  rode  close 
to  us,  tossing  a  letter  upon  the  corn  pile  as  he  passed,  and 
saying : 

"I  was  at  Gordonsville,  Bob,  and  hearing  you  were  in 
these  parts,  I  asked  for  you  at  the  office.  That's  all  there 
was." 

I  thanked  him  and  he  rode  on.  When  it  got  too  dark  to 
work  I  threw  a  fodder  stalk  on  the  smouldering  fire  and 
opened  my  letter.  It  contained  the  account  of  my  cotton 
merchant,  and  not  only  his  account  but  his  check  for  $350, 
balancing  the  same. 

It  was  the  one  moment  of  my  life  when  I  seemed  to  be 
possessed  of  boundless  wealth. 

I  had  on  my  old  Confederate  uniform, — indeed  these  were 
the  only  clothes  I  had, — but  I  walked  to  the  University  that 
night  and  entered  the  law  class  next  morning,  under  that 
prince  of  men  and  of  teachers,  John  B.  Minor.  I  had  no 
resources  whatever  outside  of  my  little  fairy-story  fortune, 
and  I  really  do  not  see  how,  without  it,  I  could  have  resumed 
and  completed  my  professional  studies. 

I  had  shared  my  large  capital  to  some  extent  with  my 
brother,  and  about  the  time  I  began  to  be  seriously  troubled 
again  with  the  ever-pressing  question  of  ways  and  means, 
entering  my  almost  barren  room  one  day  after  lecture,  I 
found  on  my  table  an  envelope  addressed  to  me  and  inside  of 
it  $75  in  greenbacks,  and — written  in  a  hand  with  which  I 
was  not  familiar,  and  entirely  without  date  or  signature — 
the  words,  "From  an  old  friend  of  your  father." 

About  the  time  this  second  supply  of  bread  and  water  the 
ravens  had  brought  was  exhausted,  at  the  minimum  rate 
of  college  expenses,  another  envelope,  addressed  in  the  same 
hand,  was  left  in  the  same  place,  and  inside  of  it  $75  more, 
but  not  even  the  scrape  of  a  pen  accompanying.  I  have 
never  heard  so  much  as  one  word  that  shed  any  light  upon 
the  identity  of  the  kind  donor,  and  this  aggregate  of  $150  is 
the  only  money  I  owe  to-day. 

My  sister,  Josephine,  who,  with  Mrs.  Egerton,  procured 
my  release  from  prison,  was  quite  intimate  with  General 


potpourri  357 

Lee's  family  and  a  great  favorite  with  the  general.  She  is 
consequently  something  of  an  heiress  in  interesting  memen- 
toes of  him  given  her  by  his  own  hand. 

She  has  a  lock  of  his  hair  and  one  of  Traveler's,  a  star 
from  his  coat  collar,  the  wooden  inkstand,  which  he  used 
generally  in  our  war,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  the  Mexican 
War  also,  and  the  remains  of  a  pound  of  tea  he  gave  her, 
asking  that  we  should  make  tea  from  it  the  first  time  we  were 
.  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  family  reunion.  She  has  also  the 
general's  parade  hat,  or  rather  she  and  I  have  committed 
this  to  the  keeping  of  the  Confederate  Museum  in  Richmond. 
The  circumstances  connected  with  this  latter  gift  are  strongly 
characteristic. 

My  sister  had  been  spending  the  morning  at  the  general's 
residence,  707  East  Franklin  Street,  Richmond,  Va.,  sit- 
ting most  of  the  time  with  the  ladies  of  the  family  in  Mrs. 
Lee's  room.  The  general  was  preparing  for  a  trip  some- 
where, and  was  leisurely  packing  his  trunk,  that  is,  after 
the  ladies  had  done  what  they  could  to  aid  him — and  every 
now  and  then  he  would  enter  the  room  where  they  were 
bringing  in  his  hand  something  which  he  thought  would  in- 
terest them.  In  one  of  these  incursions  he  brought  a  wide- 
brimmed  drab  or  gray-brown  felt  hat,  saying: 

"Miss  Josie,  has  your  father  a  good  hat?" 

My  sister  replied  that  she  really  did  not  know,  as  we  had 
not  seen  him  for  some  time. 

"Well,"  said  the  general,  "I  have  two  good  hats,  and  I 
don't  think  a  good  rebel  ought  to  have  two  good  articles  of 
one  kind  in  these  hard  times.  This  was  my  dress-parade 
hat.  Take  it,  please,  and  if  your  father  has  not  a  good  hat, 
give  him  this  one  from  me." 

Father  would  not  wear  the  hat,  deeming  it  too  sacred  a 
thing  for  common  use;  but  after  the  general's  death,  by  per- 
mission of  his  daughters,  who  were  present,  I  wore  it  at  two 
of  our  great  Confederate  reunions,  with  my  dear  old  Con- 
federate jacket,  and  I  need  scarcely  say  was  the  object  of 
more  intense  interest  than  ever  in  my  life,  before  or  since.  I 
made  bold,  too,  to  have  my  photograph  taken  with  the  hat 
on — of  course,  the  jacket,  too, — as  a  sort  of  heirloom  for 
my  family. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

ANALYSIS   OF   THE   SOLDIER-LIFE 

My  story  is  told.  If  it  has  failed  to  interest  and  to  stir 
you  deeply,  the  fault  is  in  the  telling.  And  yet  I  cannot  but 
hope  that,  in  spite  of  feeble  and  inadequate  portrayal,  the 
great  outlines  of  the  picture  have  so  impressed  themselves 
upon  you  that  you  are  ready  to  admit  the  life  of  Marse 
Robert's  boys,  from  '61  to  '65,  to  have  been  a  higher  and 
greater  life  than  you  had  imagined. 

It  would  seem  as  if  this  must  be  so,  if  you  have  credited 
the  writer  with  a  fair  average  of  intelligence  and  conscien- 
tiousness. I  can  well  understand,  however,  that,  without 
reflecting  upon  me  in  any  offensive  sense,  some  of  those  who 
have  done  me  the  honor  to  read  these  reminiscences  may  feel 
that  I  have  unconsciously  and  very  naturally  idealized  my 
comrades  of  the  long  ago  and  the  vivid  life  we  lived  to- 
gether in  our  golden  youth. 

It  is  difficult  to  meet  such  a  suggestion.  I  believe  the 
strongest  and  most  satisfactory  way  to  meet  it  and,  at  the 
same  time,  the  fittest  way  to  end  this  book,  will  be  to  close 
with  an  analysis  of  the  Soldier-Life,  from  which  it  will  ap- 
pear how  natural  and  normal  it  is,  that  elements  and  forces, 
such  as  characterize  that  life,  should  produce  men  and  deeds 
and  scenes  and  incidents  such  as  I  have  endeavored  to  por- 
tray in  the  foregoing  pages. 

It  is  also,  just  now,  specially  to  be  desired  that  the  essen- 
tial character  and  training  of  the  military  life  should  be  bet- 
ter and  more  generally  understood.  However  we  may  differ 
as  to  the  advisability  of  the  new  career  of  foreign  compli- 
cation and  conquest  upon  which  this  country  seems  to  have 
entered,  and  which  has  resulted  and  must  necessarily  result 
in  such  an  expansion  of  its  military  establishment,  yet  we 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  SOLDIER-LIFE  359 

must  all  agree  that  it  is  well  the  growing  multitudes  of 
young  men  who  are  entering  and  to  enter  the  military  serv- 
ice should  have  high  and  clear  conceptions  of  that  great  life 
to  which  they  have  devoted  themselves — a  life,  by  the  way, 
which,  notwithstanding  the  horrors  that  often  attended  it, 
grew  upon  me  every  day  I  lived  it;  and  to  which,  if  the  war 
had  resulted  in  the  establishment  of  the  Southern  Confed- 
eracy, I  should  have  consecrated  myself  with  whole-hearted 
devotion. 

It  will  not  be  forgotten  that  I  claim  for  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  some  peculiar  characteristics,  as  well  as 
a  fuller  and  finer  development  of  the  soldierly  character  in 
general,  because  of  the  circumstances  under  which  that  army 
fought,  and  especially  the  leader,  whose  banner  it  followed ; 
but,  after  all,  the  heroic  story  I  have  told  is  in  no  small  de- 
gree the  normal  product  and  outcome  of  a  grand  system  of 
physical,  mental  and  moral  training,  which  has  been  little 
understood  and  grossly  misconceived  and  misrepresented. 

What,  then,  is  the  training  and  what  are  the  formative  ele- 
ments and  forces  of  the  Soldier-Life?     I  answer: 

The  essential  character  of  the  Soldier-Life  is  "Service;" 
Its  every  employment,  its  all-pervading  law,  is  "Duty;" 
Its  first  lesson — Obedience  unquestioning; 
Its  last  lesson — Command  unquestioned ; 
Its  daily  discipline — Accountability  unceasing; 
Its  final  burden — Responsibility  unmeasured ; 
Its  every-day  experience — Hardships,  Perils,  Crises  un- 
paralleled ; 

Its  social  atmosphere — Freedom  from  Social  Shams ; 

Its  compensation — Fixed  pay ; 

Its  inspiration — Promotion  from  Above. 

If  you  have  measured  these  elements  as  I  have  mentioned 
them,  there  can  be  little  need  of  elaboration  or  of  argu- 
ment.    The  compact  analysis  makes  ample  impression  at 


360  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

once  of  theoretical  soundness  and  of  practical  power.  Be- 
yond a  doubt  these  are  the  essential  elements  and  forces  of 
the  military  life;  they  are  such  as  must  of  necessity  be  un- 
ceasingly operative,  and  their  influence  in  the  development  of 
character  can  scarcely  be  exaggerated.  Let  us  briefly  con- 
sider them. 

The  essential  character  of  the  soldier-life  is  "Service." 

Can  this  be  questioned  ?  When  a  man  enters  the  military 
profession,  whether  as  an  officer  or  a  private  soldier,  by 
that  very  act  he  is  cut  off  from  the  pursuit  of  his  personal 
aims  and  purposes  and  devoted  to  the  service  of  his  country. 
Thereafter  he  has  no  home,  no  farm,  no  workshop,  no  busi- 
ness. He  knows  no  self-directed  future,  attempts  nothing, 
expects  nothing,  for  himself.  Every  man  outside  the  army 
regards  him,  and  he  regards  himself,  as  a  man  relieved,  sep- 
arated from  the  entanglements  and  opportunities  of  the  busi- 
ness world,  and  consecrated  to  a  service  which  may  at  any 
time  demand  the  sacrifice  even  of  his  life.  Our  English  Bible, 
upon  this,  as  upon  so  many  practical  phases  of  our  human 
experience,  rings  wondrous  true.  Wrote  the  great  apostle : 
"No  man  that  warreth  entangleth  himself  with  the  affairs 
of  this  life;  that  he  may  please  him  who  hath  chosen  him 
to  be  a  soldier." 

The  keynote  which  inspires  and  dominates  and  regulates 
all  this  life  of  "Service"  is  the  single,  simple  majestic  law 
of  "Duty."  No  employment  of  the  soldier  is  too  trivial  and 
none  too  great  to  be  included  in  this  all-embracing  term 
and  regulated  by  this  all-pervading  law. 

Descriptive  names  and  phrases  express  and  impress  con- 
ceptions, and  thus  frequently  constitute  a  sort  of  connecting 
link  between  causes  and  effects,  principles  and  results. 
"Service;"  "the  service;"  "entered  the  service;"  "discharged 
from  the  service;"  promoted  for  gallant  and  meritorious 
service;"  "duty;"  "on  duty;"  "off  duty;"  "present  for 
duty;"  "absent  from  duty;"  "shot  to  death  for  absence  from 
duty" — how  many  times,  during  the  four  years  from  '61 
to  '65,  do  you  suppose  I  read,  wrote,  uttered,  heard  these 
and  kindred  expressions  ?  Is  it  not  clear  that,  by  his  every- 
day's  experience  and  intercourse,  this  one  great  figure — his 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  SOLDIER-LIFE  ^6l 


^v 


life  a  "service,"  its  employment  "duty" — is  burned  in  upon 
the  soldier's  soul  ? 

In  the  light  of  these  principles,  and  of  his  lifelong  train- 
ing, we  gain  a  new  conception  of  that  sublime  sentence  in 
General  Lee's  letter  to  his  son,  "Duty  is  the  sublimest  word 
in  the  English  language ;"  and  of  that  groan  of  his  mighty 
soul  in  the  crisis  and  agony  of  defeat,  "It  is  my  duty  to  live." 

The  first  lesson  of  the  soldier-life  is  unquestioning 
Obedience. 

No  one  will  deny  the  justness  of  the  analysis  here.  Un- 
deniably, the  first  lesson  of  the  soldier's  life,  logically  and 
chronologically,  is  obedience.  There  is  no  department,  no 
business,  no  station,  in  which  instant,  implicit,  blindfold 
obedience  is  so  vital  to  safety  and  success,  or  enforced  by 
such  terrible  sanctions.  In  military  matters  hesitation  is 
disobedience,  disobedience  is  mutiny,  mutiny  is  death. 

The  principle  of  the  soldier's  obedience  is  the  principle 
of  obedience,  a  principle  very  little  understood  and  very 
much  contemned  in  this  day  and  land.  It  is  this :  authority 
is  to  be  obeyed,  not  because  it  commands  what  is  right,  but 
because  it  has  the  right  to  command.  One  under  rightful 
authority  is  therefore  absolved  from  responsibility  as  to  the 
policy  or  propriety  or  consequences  of  the  command ;  his  sole 
dignity,  as  well  as  duty,  is  to  obey  with  unquestioning  alac- 
rity. This  principle  is  not  palatable  to  the  republican  sover- 
eigns of  this  country,  yet  it  is  a  principle  notwithstanding — - 
not  exclusive,  nor  of  universal  application,  but  it  has  its 
place,  and,  in  its  place,  is  of  vital  importance.  It  is  the 
principle  on  which  God  governs  the  world,  the  father  his 
family,  the  soldier  his  subordinates ;  and  it  has  other,  many 
other,  applications. 

Its  direct  antagonism  is  "higher  law"  that  is,  a  law  high- 
er than  the  commands  of  rightful  authority;  in  other 
words,  authority  is  to  be  obeyed,  not  because  it  has  the  right 
to  command,  but  because  it  commands  what  is  right.  This 
principle,  too,  has  its  applications,  but  it  is  not  applicable 
to  a  subordinate  under  rightful  authority.  The  harmony 
between  the  two  is  found,  I  think,  in  a  limitation  upon  the 
principle  of  obedience.     We  pass  from  the  law  of  obedience 


362  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

to  the  higher  law  when,  but  only  when,  the  command  is  so 
palpably  and  grossly  wrong  that  the  authority  can  no  lon- 
ger be  rightful  and  subjection  to  it  no  longer  endured.  This 
is  the  right  of  revolution,  and  is  applicable  by  way  of  ex- 
ception to  every  human  relation  and  authority. 

The  soldier,  however,  has  very  little  sympathy  with  the 
right  of  revolution,  or  any  modification  of  or  exception  to 
the  law  of  unquestioning  obedience.  His  theory  and  practice 
in  this  regard  find  apt  illustration  in  the  reply  of  General 
Jackson  to  the  brigade  commander,  who  gave  excellent  rea- 
sons for  having  modified  the  order  of  march :  "Sir,  you 
should  have  obeyed  the  order  first  and  reasoned  about  it 
afterwards.    Consider  yourself  under  arrest." 

The  last  lesson  of  the  soldier-life  is  unquestioned  Com- 
mand. 

This  analysis  of  the  life  and  its  lessons  is  not  original 
with  me ;  it  is  at  least  nineteen  hundred  years  old,  and  rests 
on  the  authority  of  one  who  was  a  superb  development  of  the 
most  military  nation  of  history,  that  grand  old  Roman  cen- 
turian  whose  interview  with  the  Son  of  God  is  perhaps  the 
most  striking  of  the  Gospel  narratives.  Said  he  :  "I  also  am 
a  man  set  under  authority,  having  under  me  soldiers,  and  I 
say  unto  one,  Go,  and  he  goeth ;  and  to  another,  Come,  and 
he  cometh."  Here  are  the  two  great  correlative  lessons  of 
the  life,  obedience  and  command,  and  both  are  absolute. 
This  is  the  soldier,  not  ashamed  to  obey,  not  afraid  to  com- 
mand; knowing  how  to  render,  and  thus  learning  how  to 
exact,  obedience. 

The  daily  lesson  of  the  life  is  unceasing  Accountability. 

The  soldier  breathes,  as  it  were,  an  atmosphere  of  ac- 
countability. His  daily  routine  is  made  up  of  inspections 
and  reports.  What  he  is,  what  he  has,  what  he  does,  his 
person,  his  possessions,  his  conduct,  are  constantly  passing 
under  a  scrutiny  so  searching  that  nothing  escapes,  however 
trivial,  and  all  must  conform  to  unvarying  "Regulations." 
This  is  perhaps  the  most  prominent  and  impressive  feature 
of  the  life.  I  need  not  enlarge  upon  it.  The  fact  is  patent- 
can  its  influence  be  doubted  ?    Apart  now  from  your  impres- 


ANALYSIS   OF  THE   SOL73JER-I1FE  363 

sion  as  to  what  the  soldier  is,  what  ought  he  to  be  as  the  re- 
sult of  such  training?  Can  you  conceive  of  anything  tend- 
ing more  to  develop  regularity,  reliability,  promptness,  ac- 
curacy, even  in  the  smallest  details  ? 

In  the  upper  grades  of  the  soldier-life,  mark  how  this 
accountability  is  retained  and  developed  into  Responsibility, 
which,  in  the  case  of  the  commander-in-chief,  becomes  ab- 
solutely awful,  unmeasured  and  unmeasurable. 

Responsibility !  I  had  almost  said  no  other  human  being 
can  have  any  adequate  conception  of  the  meaning  of  the 
term.  Responsible  for  what?  For  the  lives  of  his  follow- 
ers, for  the  future  of  their  bereft  families ;  but  it  is  not  life  or 
death,  not  victory  or  defeat  alone,  that  trembles  in  the  bal- 
ance of  his  battles.  It  is  the  life  and  honor  of  his  country, 
the  weal  or  woe  of  millions  yet  to  be.  He  orders  the  charge, 
and  liberty  and  destiny  and  history  flicker  in  the  gleam  of  his 
bayonets. 

The  experiences  of  the  life  are  unparalleled  Hardships, 
Perils,  Crises. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  enlarge  upon  these,  the  most 
external  and  palpable  features  of  a  soldier's  life,  so  shortly 
after  a  war  which  has  overspread  a  continent  and  filled  a 
land  with  veterans.  Nor  will  we  stay  to  prove  what  no  one 
will  deny,  that  robustness  of  character,  dauntless  determina- 
tion, courage  that  saves  from,  if  it  does  not  hide,  a  multitude 
of  sins,  and  a  composure  and  balance  of  soul  that  no  ex- 
citement can  disturb,  no  terror  overwhelm,  are  the  legitimate 
fruits  of  the  soldier  training. 

The  social  atmosphere  of  the  soldier-life  is  Freedom  from 
Social  Shams. 

The  unconventionality  and  candor  of  student  life  are  pro- 
verbial, and  yet,  though  I  stepped  from  the  hearty,  ideal 
student  life  of  Old  Yale  into  the  ranks  of  the  Confederate 
soldiery,  it  was  not  long  before  I  felt  that  I  had  never  before 
realized  how  unstudied,  unconventional,  and  absolutely  sin- 
cere human  life  could  be.  It  was  almost  startling,  the  de- 
gree to  which  I  knew  other  men,  my  comrades,  and  felt  that 
1  was  known  by  them.    All  the  little  shams,  insincerities,  and 


364  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

concealments  of  ordinary  society  disappeared ;  until,  for  the 
first  time  in  our  lives,  we  seemed  to  be  stripped  bare  of  the 
disguises  under  which  we  had  theretofore  been  accustomed 
to  hide  our  real  characters,  not  only  from  the  world  in  gen- 
eral and  from  out  most  intimate  associates  and  companions, 
but  even  from  ourselves. 

It  was  this  which  imparted  to  the  religious  life  of  the 
army  a  power  and  thrill  unattainable,  even  unapproachable, 
in  ordinary  life.  So  close  did  men  get  to  each  other  that  I 
experienced  no  difficulty  and  no  embarrassment  in  convers- 
ing with  every  man  in  the  company  on  the  subject  of  per- 
sonal religion,  and  in  these  conferences  have  often  felt  that 
I  was  playing  upon  a  naked  human  soul,  between  whom  and 
myself  there  was  absolutely  no  barrier  and  no  screen.  It  was 
an  experience  thrilling  and  tremendous  indeed.  In  view  of 
it,  I  have  more  than  once  remarked  that  if  my  Maker  should 
reveal  to  me  that  I  had  but  a  short  time  to  live,  and  should 
permit  me  to  choose  a  position  in  which  I  could  accomplish 
most  for  the  regeneration  of  my  fellow-men,  I  should  un- 
hesitatingly say,  "Let  me  be  an  officer  in  an  army,  in  a  time 
of  active  service." 

The  compensation  of  the  soldier-life  is  Fixed  pay. 

The  importance  and  influence  of  this  feature  cannot  be 
estimated  until  you  have  answered  this  question :  What  is 
the  most  demoralizing  of  all  human  desires  and  pursuits? 
I  know  not  how  you  will  better  answer  than  in  the  words 
of  Holy  Writ;  for  the  wisdom  of  God  has  embodied  the 
answer  in  a  proverb,  "The  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all 
evil."  And  the  context  is  most  impressive!  "They  that 
will  be  rich  fall  into  temptation  and  a  snare,  and  into  many 
foolish  and  hurtful  lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruction 
and  perdition."  A  proposition  thus  enunciated  needs  no  en- 
forcement, and  no  one  will  contend  that  this  terrific  indict- 
ment is  less  true  or  less  applicable  to-day  than  when  the 
noble  apostle  warned  his  "son  Timothy"  against  this  the 
greatest  of  all  the  lures  of  the  tempter.  And,  so  surely  as 
opportunity  makes  temptation,  the  soldier,  looking  securely 
to  his  sufficient  but  fixed  compensation,  having  his  undivided 
services  demanded  and  paid  for  by  his  country,  and  being 


ANALYSIS   OF   THE   SOLDIER-LIFE  365 

consequently  unable  to  devote  himself  to  any  lucrative  em- 
ployment, must  be  in  great  measure  protected  against  the 
debasing  passion  of  avarice. 

The  inspiration  of  the  life  is  Promotion  from  Above. 

Evidently  the  soldier's  compensation  is  not  the  inspiration 
of  his  calling;  and  it  is  perhaps  more  true  of  him  than  of  any 
other  man  that  his  chief  inspiration  is  honorable  advance- 
ment in  his  profession.  Call  it  love  of  glory,  if  you  please ; 
even  at  that  it  is  almost  infinitely  more  elevating  and  en- 
nobling than  love  of  money,  which  is  the  ruling  motive  of 
much  the  larger  part  of  mankind,  certainly  in  this  age  and 
land.  But  the  soldier  does  not  call  it  love  of  glory.  He 
is  no  moral  philosopher  or  theorist;  he  is  a  practical  man, 
and  his  inspiration,  that  of  which  he  talks  and  dreams,  that 
for  which  he  serves  and  strives,  is  all  embodied  in  one  word 
— promotion.  This  is  "the  life  of  the  service."  So  peculiarly 
true  is  this  that  the  soldier's  progress  has  well  nigh  appro- 
priated the  term  "promotion,"  as  the  soldier's  life  has  ap- 
propriated the  title  "service." 

But  it  is  not  the  desire  for  promotion,  however  inspiring, 
to  which  I  wished  chiefly  to  ask  your  attention,  but  rather 
the  peculiar  law  of  military  promotion,  namely,  that  it  is 
promotion  from  above.  Before  you  estimate  the  importance 
of  this  feature,  let  me  ask  you  another  question :  What  is 
the  second  great  demoralizing  influence  of  our  age,  and 
particularly  of  our  country?  I  have  not  here  the  Word  of 
God  for  answer;  but  in  these  days  of  unblushing  demagog- 
ism  I  am  sure  of  your  concurrence  when  I  say,  it  is  flattery 
and  service  of  the  mob,  cowardly  concession  to  it,  in  order 
to  secure  promotion  from  belozv.  I  mean  no  reflection  upon 
the  right  or  principle  of  suffrage;  but  the  practice  of  suf- 
frage, and  the  means  commonly  resorted  to  to  control  it 
for  personal  ends  are  at  once  a  disgrace  to  free  government 
and  a  degradation  of  the  candidate  and  the  voter.  No  hon- 
est man  can  now  pass  through  a  political  contest  without 
being  disgusted,  if  happily  he  be  not  also  surprised,  at  the 
means  employed  against  him. 

The  true  soldier  knows  nothing  of  such  contests  or  influ- 
ences.    He  never  dreams  of  promotion  by  any  other  power 


366  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

than  that  of  his  superiors,  or  on  any  other  ground  than  gal- 
lant and  meritorious  service.  No !  the  soldier's  principle,  the 
soldier's  inspiration,  is  promotion  from  above,  and  it  cuts 
off  a  world  of  temptation  and  demoralization  thus  to  lift 
a  man's  eyes  and  efforts  up  for  personal  elevation  and  ad- 
vancement. 

We  have  finished  our  review  of  the  root  forces  of  the  Sol- 
dier-Life. Where  will  you  find  principles  of  greater  power 
for  the  development  of  character? 

Is  it  objected  that  the  soldier,  as  we  see  him  in  actual 
life  to-day,  fails  to  exhibit  any  close  conformity  to  these 
elevated  principles  and  lofty  ideals?  I  answer  that  the  like 
failure  marks  the  embodiment  among  men  of  the  principles 
and  ideals  of  every  lofty  life — even  of  our  holy  religion. 
But  balanced  men  do  not  on  this  ground  question  either  the 
truth  and  beauty  of  these  principles  and  ideals,  or  the  sin- 
cere adoption  of  them  by  the  followers  of  the  Christ,  or 
their  moulding  influence  for  good  upon  those  who  adopt 
them. 

Is  it  objected  further  that,  only  the  highest  class  of  re- 
cruits could  be  expected  to  appreciate  the  philosophy  of  such 
a  system?  True,  but  the  same  is  true  of  every  high  voca- 
tion— that  only  a  few  choice  souls  thoroughly  grasp  the 
inner  philosophy,  the  root  principles,  the  formative  forces 
of  the  calling  to  which  they  have  devoted  their  lives.  But 
it  is  also  true  that  intellectual  appreciation,  however  much 
to  be  desired,  is  not  indispensable  to  the  operation  and  the 
moulding  power  of  formative  forces  such  as  we  have  dis- 
cussed. A  young  man  who  enters  the  military  service  and  is 
subjected  to  its  discipline  and  training  may  not  have  intel- 
lectual life  and  interest  enough  even  to  inquire  what  it  is 
that  is  making  a  new  man  of  him;  notwithstanding,  being 
compelled  to  conform  his  conduct  to  the  regulations  and  to 
live  the  strenuous  life  we  have  just  sketched,  new  habits 
will  gradually  be  formed  and  the  new  man  will  unconsciously 
be  made. 

A  touching  and  beautiful  illustration  of  the  justness  of 
this  soldier  analysis,  and  the  character-moulding  power  of 
its  principles,  occurred  the  first  time  I  made  use  of  it  in  pub- 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  SOLDIER-LIFE  367 

lie  speech,  applying  it  in  that  instance  to  a  great  soldier  of 
the  Confederacy,  and  showing  how  the  mould  prefigured  the 
man.  At  the  close  of  the  address  the  son  of  another  and 
one  of  the  very  greatest  of  our  Confederate  leaders,  who 
had  fallen  in  battle  early  in  the  war,  pressed  his  way  to  my 
side,  saying,  with  the  deepest  feeling :  "Major,  you  have,  in 
a  very  just  sense,  introduced  my  own  father  to  me  to-day. 
I  have  always  admired  the  majestic  outline  of  his  perfect 
manhood,  but  never  until  I  heard  you  just  now  have  I  real- 
ized where  his  qualities  came  from,  nor  sympathized,  as  I 
should  have  done,  with  my  father's  almost  passionate  love 
and  reverence  for  his  profession.    It  is  all  clear  to  me  now." 

I  am  not  a  blind  enthusiast.  I  admit  that  the  almost  en- 
forced idleness  of  the  camp  in  time  of  peace,  the  absence  of 
women  and  children  and  the  lack  of  other  refining  and  ele- 
vating influence  of  home,  are  blemishes  in  the  life  of  the 
soldier.  Nevertheless,  I  think  we  may,  in  the  light  of  our 
analysis,  begin  to  comprehend  why  great  soldiers — Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  Henry  Havelock,  Hedley  Vicars,  Chinese 
Gordon,  Stonewall  Jackson,  Robert  Lee — have  exhibited  an 
almost  unrivaled  elevation,  strength,  and  perfection  of  char- 
acter, both  as  men  and  as  Christians.  The  late  Dr.  T.  De 
Witt  Talmage  never  penned  a  truer  or  a  stronger  paragraph 
than  the  following : 

"The  sword  has  developed  the  grandest  natures  that  the 
world  ever  saw.  It  has  developed  courage — that  sublime 
energy  of  the  soul  which  defies  the  universe  when  it  feels  it- 
self to  be  in  the  right.  It  has  developed  a  self-sacrifice 
which  repudiates  the  idea  that  our  life  is  worth  more  than 
anything  else,  when  for  a  principle  it  throws  that  life  away, 
as  much  as  to  say,  Tt  is  not  necessary  that  I  live,  but  it  is 
necessary  that  righteousness  triumph.'  There  are  thousands 
among  the  Northern  and  Southern  veterans  of  our  Civil 
War  who  are  ninety-five  per  cent,  larger  and  mightier  in  soul 
than  they  would  have  been  had  they  not,  during  the  four 
years  of  national  agony,  turned  their  back  on  home  and  for- 
tune, and  at  the  front  sacrificed  all  for  a  principle." 

In  the  light  of  all  this,  we  begin  also  to  understand  why 
the  writers  of  the  Sacred  Canon  make  use  of  the  life  of  the 


368  FOUR  YEARS  UNDER  MARSE  ROBERT 

soldier  more  frequently  perhaps  than  of  any  other,  as  a 
figure  of  the  Christian  life.  Nor  can  it  do  harm  in  this 
connection  to  note  that  when  the  Son  of  God  "marveled"  at 
a  Roman  soldier's  faith,  pronouncing  it  the  greatest  he  had 
found  on  earth,  the  man  himself  traced  this  faith  to  the 
teachings  of  his  military  life,  saying  substantially,  with  us — 
I  have  learned  as  a  soldier  the  two  great  lessons  of  subjection 
and  supremacy,  of  obedience  and  command;  do  you  but 
issue  the  order,  "Speak  the  word  only,  and  my  servant  shall 
be  healed." 


I  Ifil      ill  I  i 


